


Through The... T.V Screen ?

by BlueLights



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 45,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLights/pseuds/BlueLights
Summary: When she finally got home after a long and tiresome day, she wasn't expecting that starting her console to play her Dragon Age game would lead her to land in Thedas. Yet, here she is, and things are not what she thought they'd be...
Relationships: Female Brosca/Leliana (Dragon Age), Male Amell/Female Surana (Dragon Age), Male Cousland/Morrigan (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai/Female Mahariel
Comments: 32
Kudos: 70





	1. Once Upon a Time...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer  
> All the chapter titles are references to literature, films, games or music.  
> I do not own Dragon Age. If I did I’d have countless hours of Greg Ellis, Gideon Emery and Steven Valentine talking or just reading…

It had been a long day, and an even longer week. Hell, it had actually been quite a tiresome month.

People had been coming in and out of her office, colleagues and students alike, the phone hadn’t stopped ringing, and the only thing she wanted was to scream at them to please leave her alone in relative enough peace to be able to actually be able to grade her papers in time and prepare her classes instead of mediating the petty fights breaking out between her colleagues and the never ending complaints and asinine questions of her students. 

Always the same questions, always the same answers. Day after day, week after week.

She was more than tired of it, but until she was be able to make enough money with her writing, that small teaching job, in that small coastline town in the middle of nowhere would have to be enough. She was making a decent living, enough so that she could afford what she considered the basic necessities : books, a decent bottle of wine once in a while, and some video games here and there. Her small pleasures were the only things she was treating herself to : she didn’t have a closet bursting with clothes, and she lived in a cosy little house close enough to the beach that she could hear the waves on quiet enough nights.

She sighed while parking her car in her driveway. The old vehicle had seen better days, and she probably should have traded it for a newer model a couple of years ago, but she found she had difficulties parting with the car that had seen her through so many moves and impromptu road trip adventures with her siblings when had still been living in the same area. Now, the only action the crossover car was getting was to drive to and fro the farmers market, the thought making the young woman close her eyes in remembrance of the memories, a small smile tugging at her lips.

She exited the car, taking her time to retrieve her groceries, a bottle of white wine she liked the most under one arm, the brown bag full of food under the other, barely managing to lock her car and walking up the small steps of the porch without dropping one or the other. She struggled with her keys for a little, before finally succeeding in opening the door and getting inside her cosy home.

Once the groceries had been stored away and her dinner put in the oven to cook, she sat down on her couch, bottle of whine chilled in a make shift ice bucket in front of her, an elegant glass of wine - the only one she owned - sitting empty next to it, seemingly waiting for her to use it. The whole process was like a ritual : she uncorked the bottle, and dropped a little bit of the pale white liquid into the glass, tasting it tentatively, appreciating the taste and the aromas, before serving herself a bigger glass and settling comfortably into the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and gathering the woolen blanket on her legs for comfort.

She took the time to sit there, just enjoying the feel or her home and the taste of the wine, relaxing her body and her mind, the tension of the week rolling off of her in waves at each breath she took.

After a little while, shoulders relaxed, the took her console controller from the coffee table in front of her, and launched the game she had started playing again, having not touched it in a long while after finishing it a couple of years ago. 

As the opening sequence rolled, she felt a little tingling in her fingers, but shrugged it off, thinking it to be because of the wine. The title appeared on her TV screen, and she frowned as the main menu and its animation rolled in. This was not how she remembered it to have been a few days ago… Templars and Mages no longer walking towards the Temple, but an eerily empty screen, the ruins of what she knew to have once been the Temple that was supposed the Conclave… 

Had the developers changed it with an update ? The music had stayed the same however, the familiar notes tugging at her lips. She shrugged that odd feeling off too, thinking her memory was faulting her, or an update had indeed modified the main menu…

But as she pressed the button that would enable her to get back to her current play-through, a text that had definitely not been there when she had played a mere days before appeared on screen, freezing her on the spot, unable to do anything but read in shock.

**_This is the world in which your adventure begins, Little One._ **

She tried to shut the TV and console off, but to no avail, the air growing heavier with her fear and the eerie silence of the room.

A thick green fog then dripped from the words, through the screen, and into her living room, and she couldn’t do anything but scream as an otherworldly laugh resonated in her ears…

\---------

next on the wreck : **_I've a Feeling We’re Not On Earth Anymore..._**


	2. I've a Feeling We're Not On Earth Anymore...

What a strange dream that had been.

She couldn’t remember exactly how she had gone to bed, and a quick feel around informed the young woman that she had actually fallen asleep on her couch, controller still on her lap above her comfy and warm woolen blanket. She snuggled into the warmth, refusing to move and start her day, the comforting feeling of the couch’s cushions on her back, before she picked up the scent of grass and felt the wind in her hair.

Had she left a window open last night ? 

She slowly opened her eyes, and immediately sucked in a breath at the sight that greeted her. She pushed her upper body upright, feeling dizzy at the sudden motion and the rush of emotions.  Rolling green plains stood in front of her, some old looking ruins standing in the middle of the fields, a snow covered mountain standing proudly on the horizon.

« What. The. Fuck. » she breathed in, quietly whispering to herself.

She shook her head, closing her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, hoping to find her dark blue wall, TV and coffee table instead of the lush scenery.  But everything stayed the same, and she sucked in another breath.

« Ok. Dream. » she whispered again, her barely spoken words the only thing breaking the eerie silence of the countryside. She pinched herself hard enough to bruise, tearing up before letting go.

« No dream then. »

She fully sat up, watching carefully as she touched her naked feet to the green grass, pulling it back to her when she actually felt the tendrils of greenery against the plant of her foot.

« What. The. Fuck. »

She sat, knees drawn up under her chin and flush against her chest, her heart beating so fast she thought it ready to leap from her body. Shifting the blanket to wrap it around her shoulders, she stared with empty eyes at what was in front of her, appraising the situation. She felt like she could recognize the scenery, but still hesitated between what it could be and the growing need to do something, anything, that would prove to her that she was just dreaming. 

The other alternatives were not an option.

She stood there for what seemed to be hours, sitting on her couch, completely out of place in the environment she was in.  It became clear over the course of the hours that she wasn’t, in fact, just plain dreaming, the rumbling of her stomach as the sun made its way above her head, and that she seemed to be completely alone in this landscape. A lucid dream perhaps ?

The day ran its course, hours passing by, the sun reaching its peak and slowly starting its descent, and she was still on her couch, locked in place in fear and awe.

All of a sudden, a movement and noise on her left stirred her from her transe. She fixed her eyes on the approaching point in the distance, for now a shapeless form surrounded by little clouds of dirt flying in the air, indicating the presence of horses or vehicles.

A couple minutes later, everything stopped, and she saw a person turning their mount towards her, under the watchful eyes of a few archers, bows ready to shoot her.

When the person arrived to her level, she took one look at their face, recognizing them for someone she never thought to ever come face to face with, and shut her eyes closed so hard flashes of hot white seared into her vision.

« You’re not real. You’re not real. This is not real. This can’t be happening. You’re not real… » she started muttering, heart breaking at the implications of what her recognizing him meant.

« My lady ? » attempted the man in a curious yet gentle voice. He was left ignored by the panicking woman, still whispering the words like a mantra, not even stopping to take a breath.

« You’re not real. You’re not real. This isn’t happening, you’re not real… »

She heard him dismount, patting his horse’s neck and taking the few steps towards her that were needed for a gentle gloved hand to come rest on her shoulder. The gesture had her keening in a panicked high pitched sound, pushing herself to the farthest edge of the couch and as far as she could from the contact while still staying in the safety the piece of furniture provided.

« I will not hurt you. » said the voice in a stern manner.

« Please, don’t… don’t speak, you’re not real… »

« I assure you, my lady, I am as real as the wind on your face. »

« No. »

« No ? »

« No. You’re not real… »

She hadn’t opened her eyes up to meet his, still curled over herself like a wounded animal.

« I assure you, I **am** real. Open your eyes. »

« No… if I do, if I see you… no. _**This**_... can’t be. »

The man snorted at her words, having to strain his hearing to catch them.

« So you would rather be dreaming then ? »

« This isn’t real… you’re not real… you’re not here, not real… not real… » 

The tears had started to choke her, strangling the words in her throat as she started to comprehend what was happening, the weight of the situation dawning on her with the same effect as if she had been hit by a train, air suddenly leaving her body.  She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t speak, only able to let out racking and heart wrenching sobs that seemed to break the man’s heart, as he once again took the step that separated him from her, gathering her to his chest as she sobs pitifully, unable to breathe or move, just letting herself be comforted by familiar stranger’s embrace.

« There… there… »  He said in an awkward voice, his now gloveless hand carding through her hair as the other drew soothing circles on her back. Her face was pressed flush against his armor plate, the cold metal cooling her down from the heat her emotions had generated. The sobs gradually subsidized until she could breathe again, still refusing to open her eyes or even move.

« What do you say we go back to my companions to get some food in you, and you can tell us your story ? »  She shook her head, fear surging again in her. She tried to push away, without much success as she was weakened from the lack of food during the day.

« Okay, okay… » he added at her distraught reaction. He was silent for a moment.  « Just… » he started again, before her stomach betrayed her in the loudest, angriest gurgle ever.  « Oh… maybe… just food then ? » he said, the humour evident in his tone.

She weighed her options in her mind, but the promise of sustenance was too enticing for her to do anything else but nod. Still refusing to open her eyes, she silently nodded as she grabbed the blanket more firmly in her hand and tried to push away from him, only for him to simply slip an arm under her knees and another one on her back, lifting her easily from the couch. She didn’t even make a sound, refusing to move or say anything for fear he would drop her, eyes still shut close, head turning into his pauldron to hide herself. The horse followed them diligently, neighing gently behind them ever so often.  
He didn’t try to have her speak, and she relaxed after a couple of steps. After what seemed like the longest walk, he finally slowed his pace down, indicating that they had reached his friends.

« What did you… » said another familiar voice on her left, and she winced again, holding her breath in.

« She is not dangerous… at least I don’t think so. »

« My my… look what the Warden dragged in… » said another voice, dripping with a sweet and heavy tone she could recognize anywhere.

« Is the young lady alright ? » asked a wilting, concerned voice.

« I think so. She seems to be hungry. »

He gently pressed the side on her knee, indicating that he would be dropping her on the ground. She reluctantly released him from her arms around his neck, and let him put her on her feet next to him. She covered herself with her blanket, still refusing to open her eyes, swaying lightly on unsteady and unseeing legs.

« Why isn’t it opening its eyes ? What is wrong with it ? » came a stony voice that had her breath accelerating slightly.

« Interesting… » came another one, more masculine and yet deliciously enticing with its accent.

A hand came to rest on her back, between her shoulder blades, and she flinched at the unexpected contact.

« You’re safe. You can open your eyes. »

« No… » she whispered simply.

« Why ? Are you injured ? » asked a concerned, mature and feminine voice.

« If I do… If I see you… this is real. And it can’t be. » she kept her voice a whisper, unable to say anything else. 

« Why not ? »

« Because you’re not real. Nothing is… I just want to go home… please… I want to go home… » she whispered again, her voice wavering.

« I’m afraid all this is very real. Come now, open your eyes. No danger will come to you » said a new voice. One she didn’t expect. One she didn’t know. One that had the desired effect, her eyes shooting open to stare into the green orbs in front of her, so close it actually took her breath away.

« Well hello there » said the grinning man.

Her eyes flitted shut again, the man in front laughing at her reaction while the one at her back traced soothing motion on the blanket, warming her ever so slightly.

« Great. Now you’ve scared her. »

She shook her head, indicating she wasn’t afraid of the man she had seen.

« Oh ? What is it then ? » 

« Promise me you won’t harm me. » the young woman said, tugging the blanket closer to her as she uttered her first words that weren’t a whisper or a plea.

« Hm… » a voice grunted.

« Why ? » came the melodious voice.

« I… please. Promise. » she pleaded, her tone going back to its whispers.

« I promise, no harm shall come to you by my hand. » came the soft accented voice, not hesitant at all to ensure her, but she noted his choice of word.

« Why would you... **»** came an exasperated feminine voice

A chuckle escaped her lips.

« From you I would demand you swear to protect me. » she added in an other whisper to the voice she would always be familiar with, ignoring the woman.

No one answered for a while, and she was afraid she had gone too far, outstepping the boundary she had set for herself. The silence broke as soon as she opened her mouth to attempt an apology, before being cut off by the manly voice.

« I pledge, on my honor, to protect you, my lady »

She smiled, while the rest of the of the group started mumbling in their beards and between themselves in hushed words she couldn’t hear.

She slowly opened her eyes, face to face with the man from before. She had seen his face enough in her play through to know who he was. She took the time to take him in, observing his features, trying to find the details the game hadn’t shown. He smiled at her, a genuine smile that tugged at the corner of his eyes, and she smiles back a tentative one, feeling a furious blush settle on her cheek.

The moment was broken when another voice she didn’t know broke the silent observation that was going on.

« So, mind telling us who you are ? »

She turned her head so fast so thought she had whiplash, her eyes going wide as they fell on the other companions, finding six faces in the lot that she hadn’t expected. Her mind went a thousand miles a minute, and before she could think about it the words were out of her mouth.

« You… you’re supposed to be dead… »

A raised eyebrow was all she needed to understand she had messed up.

« I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I’m… » she tried to find words to explain her outburst, but she couldn’t, and just kept opening and shutting her mouth like a blubbering idiot, on the verge of another panic attack.

A high pitched keening sound came from her right, and she turned her head, wrenching her eyes from the six people she had not expected to see here only for them to fall on four huge mabaris huddled together, one a little ways from the pack and slowly making its way towards her with a gentle face. The beast sat in front of her, gently licking her fingers and bringing her away from the edge of the panic the surprise had thrown her into. 

She dropped her left hand on the dog’s head, scratching its ear gently. 

« So… why are we supposed to be dead ? »

She turned her eyes to the group again, finding they either looked at her in distrust or awe, and sometimes a mix of both, apart from the ever unreadable golem.

« If he… There should only have been two Wardens… only two, it was ever only two… just two… » she kept muttering to herself, her voice slowly descending into a whisper.

« What is the lass rambling about now ? »

« No idea. »

« Well, you blubbering idiot, you found her, deal with it now. »

« Hey ! »

« Crush it or kill it and be done with it… »

« That’s what you get for brining in strays, Al… »

« What were we supposed to do ? Leave her alone to die ? »

« Yes. » came the clipped answer of the Qunari, stopping the young woman short in her whisperings to herself, her eyes raising to his face in shock, before sending her into a cackling laugh, as her anger started to rise.

« That’s rich, coming from you. »

They stopped their bickering at her voice, looking at her in interest, but she barely even noticed them, anger fully taking over her. 

Anger at the comment, anger at the situation, anger at what led her there, anger at herself for not knowing how to react.

« I recall a cage, Sten, one you would have died in had they not freed you from it. »

The stiffened at that, the hand at her back stopping its soothing circles for a brief instant before starting it again, as if it was a habit.

« And how would you know that ? » asked a burly voice that belonged to what she could only assume to be the noble dwarf by his attire. He seemed an easy fellow, how mouth locked into a scowl.

« She is obviously a refugee, she probably came from Lothering and saw us free him, close enough to hear our conversation. »

The conversation started again.

They were discussing her as if she wasn’t there, the comforting motion of Alistair’s hand at her back suddenly becoming suffocating, invisible shackled bounding her in place. She couldn’t stand it anymore, she was so angry as everything, and she just wanted to go home…

« **ENOUGH** ! »

She took a step forward, stepping away from Alistair and towards the group, the blanket slightly dropping around her shoulders as she let go of the corners she had been holding onto.

« I am not a child. Don’t speak about me as if I wasn’t here ! For fuck’s sake ! Nothing is real, this » she said, gesturing at the six unexpected wardens, « makes no sense whatsoever ! Duncan didn’t have the time to go to Orzammar, the Circle, Brocilian and Denerim as well as Highever ! There is now way you lot are all here, and this is just me losing my mind in a dream about a game ! NONE OF THIS IS REAL ! »

In her anger, she turned towards the Tabris woman in a swift and unexpected motion, taking one of the daggers at her waist and cutting her palm open with the blade while the others all reached for their weapons. 

The unexpected pain had her cry out, clenching the blade in her right hand until her knuckles where white while she dropped to her knees, eyes fixed onto her left palm, the sensation anchoring her into the moment.

She was bleeding. Her knees hurt from the cold ground. 

This definitely wasn’t a dream.

\----------

'I've a feeling we're not in Texas anymore.'

_The Wizard of Oz_ _,_ L. Frank Baum

Next : _**Creep**_


	3. Creep

She stood there for who knows how long, eyes fixed on her bleeding palm, until Wynne had stepped towards her, cooing gentle names at her. Zevran had reached her side, carefully pried the dagger from her still clenched fingers and returned it with a smirk to an embarrassed Tabris, who smiled at her friend.  Morrigan traipsed her ever doubtful eyes on her, while Leliana’s gaze burned through her like a hot knife through butter, making her shrink into Wynne’s embrace as the mage soothed her worries with a gentle lullaby that took her out of her shocked state and had her bawling her eyes out, making the whole party rather uncomfortable if their weigh shifting from one leg to the other leg was any indication.

« No… no… » she kept whispering when the tears subsidized, Wynne still rocking the younger woman against her while silently directing her friends to get on with their tasks.

They all went their own ways to tend to these, all still throwing uneasy looks at her whenever they passed her by.  Soon enough, the fire was going, the tents were up, and Wynne had healed her hand in a single and easy healing spell that had the younger woman open her eyes wide at the display of magic slowly knitting the tissues back together. The mages in the group had chuckled at her wide eyes and her surprise, realizing she had never seen magic before then.  
She was still being comforted by the older mage, sat by her side on one of the logs that surrounded the fire camp, Wynne’s hand tracing soothing patterns on her scalp, playing with her hair the way a mother would for her child.

One by one, the companions came to sit by the fire camp, even Morrigan, which had the young woman chuckling when she saw the Witch of the Wild coming out of her self imposed isolation for the need sheer need to satisfy her curiosity.

« So, dear… » had started Wynne, the small brunette’s eyes raising to meet the older mage’s . « Can you tell us your name ? »

« Oh » she blushed, realizing she had never introduced herself. « My name is Emily ».

The older mage smiled, as the group looked on with interest.

« Hello Emily. My name is… »

« Wynne. » Emily said, hiding her face in her hair as she said the name.

The group tensed again in surprise, eyes narrowing and fixing her with a renewed intensity.

She took a breath before they could say anything, and, raising her head, looked at each of them as she said their names.

« Morrigan… Sten… Shale… Zevran… Alistair… Leliana… Oghren… Aeducan… Brosca… Tabris… Cousland… Amell… Surana… Mahariel… »

The camp was as silent as it could possibly be, everyone watching her acutely.

« How do you know us ? » prompted Wynne gently.

« There is… where I’m from, your story is being told. »

« Is it now ? » said Morrigan, surprised. Emily nodded, before continuing.

« We… have many ways to tell stories. Yours was… IS, one of my favorite, amongst many others. »

« But how can they know it if it’s happening now ? » asked Leliana, brow furrowed.

« It’s… I… I’m not from around here. »

« Where then ? »

« Somewhere else… it’s… » Emily suddenly thought of the scene in Thor, in which the Avenger had explained the existence of Asgard thanks to drawings to Jane. Why not steal the explanation ? It was a perfectly good one after all… after some tweaks. « It’s like this : you live in this world, but there are countless others surrounding it, never in contact because the don’t exist in the same reality… » 

The party looked at her, confused.

« I… Take your hand. Your fingers are next to one another, touching, but your finger never goes through the other ones, right ? » she waited for them to nod in understanding, using her own digits to demonstrate her point. « Well. It’s like you live on this finger, and me on this one. My world isn’t your world, they exists around one another, but one can never go through the other, right ? » She waited again for their nod of understanding. « I don’t know how, but… my world… there was a sort of green mist coming in, and all of the sudden…it’s like I dropped from my world into yours. »

They didn’t understand, looking at her eyebrows raised.

« Like the Fade ? » asked Amell.

« Hmm… sorta, I guess ? »

« Okay. » He shrugged his shoulders in acceptance of the situation, the other mages nodding along in hums of approval - even Morrigan - while the rest of the group looked at them in confusion.

« What in the… » started Leliana, before being cut by who she assumed was Aeducan.

« Why did you say we should be dead ? Why ‘only two Wardens’ ? »

« Oh… hm… in the story, there’s only ever two wardens. It’s always Alistair and one of you, never all of you together with Alistair. » mentioning his name caught the attention of the former almost-templar, an embarrassed blush painting his cheeks.

« Why always Alistair ? »

« He is what I would assume to be a tether point in the Story… no matter what, he is there. »

« Why would **we** not be there ? »

« Because in the Story, Duncan only started recruiting a few weeks before King Cailan called for his armies and the Wardens to join him at Ostagar. He didn’t have the time to go everywhere, so he only grabbed the one he could… »

« But… both the Warden dwarves are from Orzammar… And we’re both from the Circle tower… » asked a timid Surana, burrowing into Amell’s side.

« And how come you know their names but not ours? Why only surnames ? » asked Cousland.

« Well… it’s… heu… complicated ? »

« Do tell. »

« I think Duncan only conscripted or recruited the ones the pla… story teller was focused on when telling the story. I don’t know why, though… And… I know your… what the Story calls your ‘default’ names. It changes depending on who tells it, so it’s not really fixed… »

« Maybe they are the right ones. Humor us. »

« Okay… Aedan Cousland, Kallian Tabris, Lyna Mahariel, Daylen Amell, Neria Surana, Natia Brosca and Duran Aeducan ? »

« What the… » said Duran, looking at her with eyes wide as saucers.

« You’re… spot on. »

« How come the companions don’t change names ? » asked a curious Leliana.

« Because… hm… » Emily stopped to think about it, before settling on an answer she hoped would be satisfying to them. « The Warden is the hero of this story only, whereas you all have parts to play in the other ones. »

« Other stories ? » questioned Zevran. Emily nodded.

« Yes. It’s… your story is the first of three. There is a fourth one being written, but no one knows what it says yet… And, well, the Warden is only part of **_this_** one. Depending on what happens, and the choice they make, they might be mentioned here and there in the others, or not at all. But no matter what, you’re all mentioned in the others. »

That seemed to make them wonder for a moment, giving Emily enough time to collect her thoughts and assess what she could or should tell them at the moment. She was afraid she had already given them too much informations, and that her explanations were confusing. She sure as hell didn't know how to explain it properly, given that she didn't even know how it worked.

« So… you know what’s going to happen then ? » asked Natia.

« To an extent, and it’s all depending on the choices you make, but yes. »

« Do we defeat the Blight ? »

« Eventually... Yes. » a collective sigh of relief made Emily smile.

« Can you tell us anything else ? »

« I’m… not sure. »

« Why ? »

« Some very specific things, that I do not know of, had to happen for you all to be there… which goes against what the Story originally says. However, some other very specific things still need to happen for you to defeat the Archdemon. I can’t risk telling you of them. »

« What things ? Why not ? »

« I can’t tell you. If I do… If you know what’s going to happen before hand, it might not happen at all. » they winced at that.

She was so happy Leliana was still soft and innocent. Inquisition Leliana would have tortured her until she had spilled everything... or she was dead.

« So bad things need to happen. To us. Or else we can’t defeat the Darkspawns. » resumed Kallian.

« I’m sorry, but… yes… »

« But why thought ? » asked Daylen.

« It’s… okay, if you had known that an assassination attempt would be waiting for you on the road Zevran and his useless thugs ambushed you on, would you still have taken it ? » The mage rubbed his chin, intrigued, while the Antivan assassin had looked at her with very focused eyes.

« Probably not… »

« And that might mean Zevran would have come at you with a different team, one you probably not have been able to defeat this easily… or the Crows would have sent someone else in his stead and you might have died. »

« It... makes sense. I think I understand. » nodded Duran. 

« I can still warn you for some things, and make sure you are ready for what you will face, though. »

« Yeah ? » asked Lyna, perking up from her gloomy mood the announcement of bad things to come had put her in.

« I can try… I’ll do my best. » Emily repressed the urge to go and hug the Elven woman, instead turning into Wynne’s side.

« She’s a hugger. » chuckled Aedan, the man looking at her with an amused expression on his face, his words only making the younger woman blush furiously.

« While this was a fascinating tale, I’m afraid I’m not entirely convinced. » added Morrigan with a careful tone, nose turned slightly up.

« HOW are you not convinced ?? » asked Alistair, the annoyance clear in his voice.

« It’s not wrong. It’s all a bit… weird. » added Shale, while Sten merely grunted his approval.

« Could be a spy » added the Qunari.

« How can I convince you ? »

« If you know this story, then you probably know things about us no one else knows ? »

« That is… a heavy but good question, Morrigan. » said Leliana.

« Okay, can I… think about it for a minute ? »

The women nodded their approval, letting Emily’s eyes roam on the companions, trying to think of something only she would be aware of.

« Okay. Do you want to do this with every one else here, or… »

« It’s fine. »

« Some of it can be quite… personal. »

It gave Leliana and Alistair pause, Morrigan snorting, while Zevran just crossed his arms and smiled a predatory smirk.

« One by one in your tent, little seer… »

Emily blushed at his tone and his words, a deep crimson taking over her complexion.

« It’s… hm… sure… but, hm… which is… »

The assassin pointed at the tent on the left of the fire camp.

« Hey ! That’s MY tent ! » protested Alistair, blushing.

« And it is **your** stray as well. **_You_** brought her, **_you_** take care of her. » said Natia matter of factly, while Duran acquiesced to her logic with a smile.

« Fine. » pouted Alistair, crossing his arms on his chest and pouting.

Emily didn’t say anything, merely accepting Zevran’s hand to get up and following his wordless to Alistair’s tent, said Warden catching up to them while still grumbling on his own. He opened the tent flap to let himself in, pushing his things away to make space for a second bedroll in the space, helping her lay down the gear they had lent her, Zevran observing them.

\----------

_Creep_ _,_ Radiohead

Next : _**Curiouser and Curiouser !**_


	4. Curiouser and Curiouser !

As soon as they were done setting her up, the elf had grabbed Emily’s shoulders and pushed her to sit on her bedroll, himself sitting next to Alistair on his bedroll.

« Do me first » he said in a languid and sweet voice, making Emily shiver as Alistair groaned at the innuendo.

« Oh, come on… »

« Are you sure you’re fine with Alistair here ? »

« You are… right. Dog, out. »

« Who’s the… HEY ! »

« Do not worry, my friend, I will not spoil your bedroll… much » continued the assassin, making Emily blush even more than before as Alistair left the tent in a hurry.

« And no funny business ! » yelled the ex-almost-templar as the tent’s flap slid back in place behind him.

Zevran stayed silent for a moment, before turning towards her fully, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

« So, little Seer… what do you know about me ? » he said, the brunette bracing herself for the reaction the one word she was about to say might provoke.

« Rinna. »

Zevran went rigid, eyes losing their mirth and becoming dangerously focused on her.

« I’m… I’m sorry. There was nothing you could have done. House Arainai was going to kill her anyways…»

« The Story spoke of her ? »

« Yes. Not at length, but enough to know that you are depressed about it, and that this is probably the reason you went at the group with so few and mediocre men for the ambush… You want to die, too. »

« Stop. » 

Emily raised her head towards him, eyes shinning with unshed tears, to find him similarly affected. In a hesitant and shaky gesture, she reached for him, wrapping her hand around his, squeezing to bring him what little comfort she could. He didn’t take his hand away, squeezing hers back.

« I’m sorry. »

« Don’t be. There was nothing you could have done, either ».

She tugged on his hand and he diligently followed, like a doll void of any free will, coming to her and easily falling into her embrace, the young brunette’s hand coming to rest on his hair and neck, scratching his scalp comfortingly while he wrapped his arms around her. She felt a few tears falling on her shoulder, and they stayed there for a few minutes, until he gently pushed away from her, righting his clothing with his signature smirk back on his lips.

« What are they going to think when they see me, I wonder » he drawled, making Emily blush again.

« Go, you flirt. »

He left the tent with a chuckle, leaving the young woman to compose herself as Leliana entered the tent and took his place, eyes holding questions she could only assume were about her companion’s behavior.

« Leliana. »

« Emily. »

« I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else… »

The red head tensed at her words, but didn’t say anything, bracing herself as Emily took a deep breath 

« Marjolaine is a horrible person, and you didn’t deserve any of the things she put you through. I’m glad you got away from that manipulative, bitchy old crone… »

The former bard looked at her in shock, eyes wide.

« How did… no. Thank you, Seer. »

« I’m not a… »

« How else do you call seeing the things that have been and will be ? »

« It’s not like that, I don’t see things, I just… know of them. »

Leliana smiles, bowing her head.

« As you say, Seer. »

Emily groaned, putting her head in her hands as the woman exited the tent, letting Morrigan take her place.

« She calls you Seer ? »

« Please, don’t. I’m not a Seer, I’m just… I just like the Story of this world. »

« Hm… »

« Morrigan. You are Flemeth’s daughter, and she… isn’t who she seems to be. »

« Do continue. This is nothing new. »

« You’re one of the most mysterious ones… have you found your mother’s grimoire yet ? »

The Witch nodded, not giving any emotion away.

« Then you know how she prolonged her life so far. »

« Indeed I do. »

« And you’ll soon ask the Wardens to kill her. »

The Witch drew a sharp, causing Emily to silently thank whoever - or whatever - had dropped her there for it to have been before Morrigan’s request.

Without another word, the witch of the wilds rose, and left the tent.

« That could have gone better… » groaned the young woman, putting her head in her heads and sighing.

« Don’t mind her. She’s always like that. Brooding. »

Emily’s head rose up, eyes wide at seeing Alistair in front of her.

« Um… I guess it’s my turn. Go on, do your worst » he said with a smile.

« I… before I say anything, I just want to say that… well. I don’t think of you as just your name. You’re… you’re just Alistair. You’re goofy and you make bad jokes and you’re really awkward sometimes. »

« I… thanks ? » answered the Grey Warden, crossing his arm in front of him, and prompting Emily to go ahead with a nod.

« Alistair Theirein »

He froze at hearing his name, then blinked a few times, shock etched on his face.

« Alistair ? »

« Wha… alright. I believe you. I mean, I already did, but it just confirmed it. »

« Are you feeling… fine ? »

« Yep. Yep yep yep. Just fiiiiiiine. »

Emily’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, concerned.

« You sure ? »

« Yes. I mean, don’t go around telling anyone else, but yes… I’m fine. »

« So… you haven’t gone to Redcliff then ? »

He cocked her head to the side, like a puppy, and looked at her in confusion.

« No. We started with the treaty from the Circle, we’re on our way to Redcliff now. Why ? »

« You would have told the Warden when you got there. »

The timeline was getting a little clearer thanks to him, but some questions remained in order for Emily to be able to know for sure what was going on.

« Did you… Do you know what’s happening in all of Thedas ? »

« Sort of. Not in detail, not everywhere, but the gist of what happens for each nation. Important events, at the very least… »

« Oh… ok. Fine. Not scary at all. »

« You’ll be fine, Alistair. » he perked up at her words.

« Really ? »

« Yes. And if… if you start heading on the path of ‘not fine’, I’ll try to get everyone back onboard the happy ending train. »

« What’s a… train ? »

« Nothing, just… something from my world… Like a carriage, but going very very fast. Covers big distances in mere ho… »

A voice shot up, interrupting the discussion.

« Hey Alistair ! You alive in there ? »

« Did the Seer eat you ? » snickered Zevran

« At least we do not have to endure his moronic presence… » added Morrigan

« Sorry, gotta go » smiled the Warden.

« Yeah, it’s… yeah. »

« You know, I’m not sure Shale would fit in the tent. »

« Of course she won’t, have you see… oh ! oh, right, I’ll… go outside. »

She exited the tent alongside him, the companions giving them an embarrassing slow clap that made the both of them go crimson.

« Nothing happened ! »

« We know. » winked Aedan, giving them both a little smile before clapping Alistair on the shoulder and leading him away, whispering into his fellow Grey Warden ear, while Emily made her way towards the golem at the far end of the camp, nodding at Bodhan and his son on her way, the dwarves returning the greeting with a bow of their heads.

« Hey Shale. »

« Greetings. »

« So… the control rod isn’t working, and you have no memories whatsoever. »

« It knows ? »

« I do… though there might be a way for you to remember. »

« I… Um. It might not be as useless as I thought… »

« Thanks, Shale… and… the crystals look really gorgeous. They highlight the color of your stone. »

If a golem could look shocked and delighted at the same time, this probably what it looked like.

« I… thanks. They do, don’t they ? »

Emily smiled and made her way to Sten, who looked at her approaching with a grunt and a nod.

« Like a bandaid, right… so… have you told them why you killed the family yet ? »

« No. »

« Ok… don’t waste too much time, they might come across your sword soon and not know it for what it is »

The Qunari’s arms dropped to his side.

« I… will do so. »

Emily nodded her head at him, and went back to the fire, the golem and Qunari walking behind her, keeping a little distance between them.

« Why didn’t you do us ? » asked Duran, encompassing the rest of the unexpected Wardens with a gesture or his arm.

« I… I don’t know. » the brunette shrugged. « I didn’t think about it… »

« Well go on then. » Lyna prompted, while her companions groaned.

« What ? We’ve all told our life stories to one another anyways. »

« Not everything » protested Aedan

« I can just tell you what happened before Duncan found you, if you want ? »

« That could work… »

« Go on, Seer » encouraged Leliana, making Emily groan.

« I’m not a Seer… »

« Please, don’t mind her, tell us. » asked Neria, eyes wide and gentle.

« Hm… you and Daylen destroyed Jowan’s phylactery. Duncan conscripted you to avoid you being punished for it when he escaped. » the two mages nodded, sitting closer together.

« What about us dwarves ? »

« Um… Brosca impersonnated a fighter at the proving, and Duncan stepped in to prevent her from being executed. Aeducan… Bhelen accused you of killing your brother to become king. Duncan stepped in to recruit you before you could be exiled to the Deep Roads while Gorim made its way to the surface. » the dwarves frowned, but nodded nonetheless, Duran and Natia’s eyes softening.

« As for Kallian… I’m really sorry about the wedding. Vaughan Kendell deserved to die. I’m glad Duncan conscripted you before the guards arrested you. » The elf nodded, dropping her head.

« Mahariel… I’m sorry about Tamlen. I know he was a good friend of yours. Duncan conscripted you to prevent you from dying from the taint because of the Eluvian. » Lyna nodded eyes shinning with unshed tears.

« I see you kept the best one for last, hm ? » rumbled Aedan, making Emily blush again - it seemed to be the only thing she could do here.

« Well… I’m… Eh… right. I’m sorry about your family… Oren especially… Howe will pay for it, don’t you worry. Overall, Loghain’s treachery and schemes will not be ignored. You will have your vengence. »

The noble man bowed his head in thanks at the revelation, before going back to a pensive pose, Morrigan barely visibly scooting closer in support. From what she could see of the group, Emily deduced that the mage Wardens were in a relationship, while the dwarves seemed content enough to ignore one another, having no obvious links to someone in particular from the group. Lyna seemed close to Kallian, but extended the same easy going camaraderie to the rest of the group, so it was probably just her personality. Aedan and Morrigan seemed close, and were probably in a relationship, or on the verge of one.

The rest of the party behaved in pretty much the same standing as they did in the fame, a few notable differences being the people they tended to gravitate towards, caused by the presence of the seven warden recruits instead of the one.

What a mess.

All of a sudden, a wet tongue lapping at her hand made Emily stray from her line if thought. The mabaris had come closer to the camp, and the black one was licking her hand while the others seemed content to just lay here and there around her.

« Hey… what are their names ? »

Aedan shrugged, before pointing at a golden mabari on her left.

« This one is mine. His name is Finn »

« And these mutts are called Rian, Daithi and Eimear. » added Alistair, respectively pointing to the black dog, then the brown one and the white - and only female mabari-last. All the dogs seemed content to just lay there, happy to bask in the warmth of the fire and the attention of the group.

« I supposed Rian is yours ? »

« Yes… how did you guess ? »

« Just a hunch… whose are Daithi and Eimear ? »

« Diathi is mine » proudly said Lyna, while Daylen laid claims to the white mabari, bringing a smile to Emily’s lips when she thought of Hawke’s mabari, who was probably fleeing Lothering at this very moment… 

The thought shocked her, and she started crying for the loss of the Hawke sibling she knew had happened, or was imminent.

« Hey… what’s going on ? »

« Nothing… just… has Lothering fallen to the Darkspawn yet ? »

The group scrunched their noses, frowning.

« Not that we know of… »

Bodhan then cleared his throat, joining the group along with Sandal, and sitting on a log close to the other dwarves.

« If I may… Lothering has not yet been overrun. But it will be soon… Why ? »

« It’s just… there are people there, that I would like to see safe… »

« From the Story ? »

« From the second one, yes. »

« Fascinating… so you do know what happens to them in this one, even though they appear in the second ? » questioned Zevran

« Yes, everything is somewhat connected between the stories… Leliana is here in this one, but is going to be an important part of the third as well. » Revealed Emily, patting Eimear’s head, at the containment of the dog, while Rian was still licking her other hand, the young woman obvious to the surprised expression on the bard’s face.

« Really ? »

« Yes. »

« Are any of us important in the other stories ? » questioned Lyna.

« Zevran pops up here and there, and Alistair too, and Morrigan has a very important role to play in the third one too. »

« Such a joyful perspective… » said the Witch

« Hmm. Depending on what’s going to happen next, you guys will have quite the part to play as well… though I don’t exactly know who’s going to be doing what, given that there are seven of you instead of just the one… I mean, when the Conc… »

Everyone looked at the brunette, who stopped herself before the words could reveal anything further, hands on her mouth.

« Well, Seer, we’re looking forward to this future you know of, then » grinned Duran.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, Emily refusing to speak about anymore of what she knew, keeping silent throughout the dinner, half falling asleep on Alistair’s shoulderonce the group had stopped trying to pry answers from her. 

When everyone had been sent to bed, she barely felt Alistair gathering her in his arms and carrying her to their shared tent, tucking her in her bedroll, putting her woolen blanket up to her shoulders.

The first thing she asked upon waking up was a quill and a piece of parchement, and had Alistair write a letter to the Hawke family that she hoped would reach them in time to prevent the death of either Bethany or Carver. She wouldn’t, couldn’t let one of the Hawke twins die : it didn’t actually serve any purpose other that being a cruel ‘Ah ! Lesson n°1 : your choices have consequence ! Deal with it now !’. A slap in the face of the player, a lesson that in Thedas, nothing was sure.

Alistair had sent the letter without questions, just a lingering, intrigued gaze.

Hopefully this meant the twins wouldn’t just die in the deeproads a year from then…

She didn’t know if she could take it when she’d meet Hawke.

* * *

_Alice in Wonderland_ _,_ Lewis Carroll

Next : _**Ain't No Rest For the Undead...**_


	5. Ain’t No Rest For The Undead…

A few days passed, the group having seemingly accepted Emily as one of them. She managed to warn them about the « sickness » of arl Eamon and the undead’s attacks on Redcliff village, telling them to stock up on arrows and Antivan Fire along with a ton of Lyrium potions, as well as good armor for the warriors and mages and bows for all the rogues. 

She learned that Aedan and Duran were - unsurprisingly - warriors, the former using sword and shield and Guardian specialization while the latter used dual swords and seemed to be more of a Champion. 

Lyna was a rogue, dual wielding or archer giving the terrain, belonging to the Shadow class. 

The main surprise had been Natia, whom she had expected to be a rogue but turned out to be a warrior as well, identifiable as either a Berserker or a Reaver, from what Emily had been told. 

Both Warden mages had been schooled in the Arcane magic, but Neria was now learning Shapeshifting from Morrigan while Daylen was slowly building his abilities as a Spirit Healer under Wynne’s tutelage.

Overall, the group was well matched, and where one was lacking the other could compensate for it. It was quite the perfect party, in Emily’s opinion. The main benefit from the game fighting system was not having to leave anyone behind and fighting as a unit rather than little groups of 4, which also had the added bonus of making them a force to be reckoned with, maybe on par with Bull’s Chargers…

Taking on high dragons would be more than easy, and it made the final battle not as daunting as it might have been if they had to separate themselves.

After a few days of travelling, they finally reached Redcliff, and discovered what was going on there. Facing the truth of it all was different from what they had readied themselves for, hearing about it and seeing it being two different things.

Emily was fascinated by the place. She was walking through the deserted town, leaving the group to their discussion with Teagan to go talk to the young woman whom she remembered was looking for her brother. 

She spoke to a few of the inhabitants, learning of their needs and accepting to go look for the few necessities they had left behind during the attacks in their haste to find refuge in the Chantry. The reality of it all seemed to hit her then. These weren’t mindless NPCs she couldn’t interact with and was happy to ignore. These people had names, families… They were tangible, flesh and blood, and the hope in their eyes when they looked at her and her companions was almost enough to bring her to tears. 

She thoroughly ignored the sisters’ attempts at having her join their prayer group, the brunette barely able to hide her contempt for the religion as she tried to focus on the needs of the inhabitants, whom she realized were being left to their own devices when they were not ‘of high-enough standing’ to warrant help from the Sisters.

She had wandered outside of the Chantry after yet another attempt from the sisters, - interrupting a conversation with an elderly lady - leaving the oppressing building to breathe some fresh air. 

In spite of the larger village layout, her feet led her to the docks, where she picked up some stones and starting trying to skip them on the eerily flat surface of the lake, which was giving the place an ethereal aspect that sent chills down her back.

« I used to come here to skip stones too. »

She jumped at Alistair’s voice, dropping the stone in the water with an undignified high shriek, putting a hand to her chest.

« Alistair ! I didn’t hear you coming… »

« Ah, sorry… »

« No, it’s me… I should be more aware of my surroundings. »

They stood together in silence, facing each other, an awkward silence setting in.

« Hey, Alistair ? »

« Hm ? »

« Did… When you were a kid, did Eamon really had you sleeping in the kennels ? »

« How do you… Right. Never mind. Well, yes. »

Emily scrunched up her nose in contempt and disgust, unable to hide her disdain for the man the one in front of her so admired.

« You don’t seem to like him very much. »

« I don’t. What kind of… of person swears to take care of a child and then… has them sleep in the freaking kennels ? Like a dog ! It’s just… I don’t like what he did to you. »

« Is that all you hold against him ? »

« No. He is a hypocrite, unjust and overall very condescending. I don’t like the way he treated you, and what he thinks he is owed for this ‘benevolent’ treatment… He took you in, yes, but he sold you to the chantry like… like cattle ! All to ensure you wouldn’t be a possible threat to his nephew’s rule ! As if… Grrrr… For all his boyish idealism and desire for glory above all, I liked Cailan a great deal more than his uncles. » she finished, crossing her arms over her chest with a humpf of disapproval, while Alistair had slowly turned more and more surprised at what she knew of his past, as well as the people in it.

« And what does he expect exactly ? »

« You’ll see for yourself when he starts acting like an entitled little prick… »

« He is a good man. He could have thrown me to the wolves and left me to die. »

« If he had, your mother or father would have killed him before he could say ‘oops’. »

This had him perking up, looking at her with renewed interest.

« You know of my mother ? »

« Sorta… it’s complicated. We shouldn’t… Do you mind if we talk about this later ? »

« Sure… The others have gone to gather equipment and trying to rally more to the defense of the town. »

« And you got babysitter duty ? »

« Well, they keep insisting you’re ‘my’ stray… »

« I’m sorry. »

« Meh… I don’t mind. Your company is more agreeable than a smelly armory or a sweaty smithy anyways… »

« Thank you, I guess… »

« Anytime ! Do you want to do something to pass the time ? »

« Can we go find a kid ? »

« I’m sorry, what ? »

« A little boy got scared and ran away, do you mind if we go find him and bring him to his sister ? »

« Of course not ! Let’s go be heroic ! »

They had spent some hours trying to find Bevin. It had been much harder to find him in reality than in the game, the town being much bigger than what had been rendered, and while the ‘main’ layout - houses / lakes / shops - had mainly been the same, the sizes of each area had been much greater.

They had found the boy, along with the family sword, and brought the child and the weapon back to his sister. Both refused to take any coin from Kaitlin, instead giving her enough for the two siblings to make the trip to Denerim and stay with their relatives, while Alistair was showing Bevin how to lift and make some defensive moves with the sword.

They had left again when the party made their way to the tavern, Emily taking the time to talk to the young woman working there, telling her to stop accepting her boss’ gross behavior, assuring her that her skills in accounting and overall business savvy would be more than welcome somewhere else. She slipped the woman some coin as well, Alistair giving her a questioning look as she took some silver from the purse, the brunette silently promising to explain after they were gone.

The group had questioned the agent Loghain had sent, coercing him into fighting to defend the town from the undead while getting as much information from him as they could, Emily hidden from the elf’s view behind the imposing frames of her friends.

Then the game of waiting had begun. The Wardens had set up as many last minute defenses as they could, entrusting a pouting Emily in the care of Teagan, who had ‘graciously’ accepted to take care of her and guard her inside the Chantry, as he himself had been deemed too important by the Chevaliers to go in defense of the village. Hehad remained inside the stone building, along with a couple fighters, to defend the citizens should the massive wooden doors be breached by the walking skeletons.

Alistair had made a show of telling his ‘uncle’ how she was his charge, pressing the importance of the young woman remaining alive at any cost, with the rest of the group nodding in agreement behind his back, managing to impress her importance to them without mentioning her particular knowledge.

She was almost convinced Teagan believed her to be Alistair’s mistress - or a ‘companion’ of the unusual sort to all of them, given the few looks of appraisal he had thrown her way…

Once it had been time for them to head out and take their position, she had pulled them apart to give some last minutes informations.

« Don’t rely too much on your victory once you’ve defeated the wave of undead up the hill. As soon as the Chevaliers can deal with it on their own, leave a couple of the group behind and the rest of you head down into the town. For the ones who remain up the hill, if you can shoot some arrows or slowing spells down near the shores, please do. It will limit the losses, and avoid the swarming situation. »

« How many ? » asked Natia.

« I don’t know. I never really kept count. »

« We’re going to have so much fun ! » said Lyna, almost giddily.

« Well… sure. As much fun as killing already undead stuff can provide… » chuckled Daylen, Neria laughing softly at his side.

« Avoid the pointy things, and don’t play heroes. » added Emily.

« And stay inside, Seer » finished Leliana, looking softly at the woman, putting a hand on her shoulder to press the issue.

As they left the Chantry, Emily grabbed Aedan’s forearm, keeping him back for a second, under the watchful eye of Morrigan.

« Keep an eye on Alistair. He’s attached to this place, but don’t let him get injured… »

The man looked at her strangely, before nodding swiftly and leaving the building of worship with the Witch at his side, smiling softly at the apostate. The sight made Emily smile, too : Morrigan and Aedan both deserved whatever happiness they could find, especially given their tragic pasts, recent or otherwise…

Teagan had made its way towards her as the door had fallen back in place and barred, putting a hand on her shoulder, where Leliana’s had been moments earlier.

« I don’t like being left behind, either. »

« Oh really ? » said Emily with snark, not even turning to face the bann.

« Yes. I don’t like being locked indoors and letting others fight for me. »

« Then you should have been at Ostagar with Cailan. »

« Pardon me ? »

« It seemed most Teyrns and Banns pledged their armies to your nephew, following their men to the king’s camp. And yet… not you nor Eamon where at his majesty’s side during Loghain betrayal… I wonder why that is ? »

She had left him to stew on her words, his undignified gargles as he looked for justifications making her smile.

She really hated the Guerrins. The only good ones had been Rowan and their father, and both were dead. She sighed, thinking back on the mess that had brought Thedas to its present state. The Elves and their thirst for power, Fen’Harel’s madness, the Orlesian’sneed to just own everything they could put their hands on, the blatant racism going rampant, the dwarves’ obsession with digging deeper, Tevinter magisters unchecked ambitions - which ultimately led to the Blight… Intrigue, deceit and betrayal were omnipresent in this world, and while pretty much the same happened in her own, this one was far deadlier. Each decision seemed to end either in death or misery. One mistake on her part, and Emily would end up six feet under.

As she wandered the Chantry, which was also far bigger on the inside that what the game had portrayed, she found a group of children huddled together in a corner, their clothes tattered and dirty. They were in front a little fireplace, with no adults around. She went back to he sisters, who were making a show taking care of the most well-off citizens in full view of their lord’s brother, while ignoring the poorest orphans. She sneered at them when they approached her with fake smiles, dodging the women to make a beeline to her and the group’s packs to retrieve some provisions and blankets, finding unexpected help from Bevin and Kaitlyn to carry everything back to the children, under the watchful eyes of Teagan, who had calmed down and had been watching the orphaned young woman with rapt attention... making Emily remember both would be married, given the chance to meet and develop a relationship.

Going back to the kids, she set to work, and had them wrapped up in blankets with a bowl of warm stew in no time, watching the kids eat with a smile. They had lost everything, she would do what little she could to keep them at the very least fed, even if she could only provide a meal and blankets for a night.

They had eaten in silence, thanking her but the older ones eying her with suspicious eyes, which had broken her heart even further. They had slowly come to trust her when they realized she wouldn’t be hurting or demand anything from them in exchange for the meal, and had slowly started to open up to Emily.

She learned that most of them had found their way into Redcliff from southern villages, which had already fallen to the Darkspawns, and none of them had the supplies to leave. Whatever belongings they had had been ‘requisitioned’ by the Chantry and the Templars in defense of Redcliff, and their coins had been rapidly spent on food and warmer clothing. 

After a while, the heavy silence coming from outside broke, yelling and the tell tale sounds of battle carrying into the building. It all started to scare them, and the little brunette decided to tell them some stories of her world to alleviate their worries. She sat with her back against the wooden wall separating them from the main room, her woolen blankets on her shoulders, facing the fire that was still going. The children had turned to her, and were watching, enraptured, as she told the tales of Peter Pan, Rapuzel and as many others as she could think of.

The hours passed, the battle showing no sign of dying down.

A little girl, Sorcha, barely out of toddler age, had found her way to her, sitting between her legs and falling asleep against her chest as she was telling the children the story of Snow White, which they apparently didn’t have in this world. Imitating the girl, another child, a boy that seemed to be 6 or 7, fell asleep against her side, while his younger brother, half propped on his brother, started snoring gently, his head on her thigh. She carded her hands through the eldest’s blond hair, and soon, he too, was asleep. 

Teagan had shown up once, to put a couple logs back into the fireplace as what she could only imagine was a show of good faith, smiling in amusement as he saw her predicament, but leaving as fast as he had appeared, unwilling to disturb the children.

She kept on telling stories until all were asleep, the older ones being used as pillows by the youngest, and Emily ended up surrounded by six of them, all sound asleep.

She had fallen asleep herself sometimes after them, the sounds of the fire crackling and the faint echo of metal hitting metal lulling her to sleep.

_\-----------_

_Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked,_ Cage the Elephant

Next : **_T'was a Famous Victory_**


	6. T'was a Famous Victory

Emily woke up suddenly, startled by the cold thing that had touched her cheek.

She found herself face to face with a dirty Kallian, who, despite the deep purple marks under her eyes, had a wide grin on her face. The elven woman looked down at the children still asleep on Emily, the early light of day filtering through the stained glass windows of the chantry, bathing everything in faded colors that would only get more vibrant as the sunlight grew stronger.

The brunette smiled at her friend, extricating herself from the hold of the children, but ultimately unable to dislodge the little girl that held firmly onto her top. She shrugged, and resolved to carry the child - she barely weighed anything - and had made her way to her friends and the town’s defenders.

Morrigan turned her nose up as she saw her coming closer with the child held comfortably to her chest, Alistair and Neria giving her wide smiles while the mabaris jumped excitedly around her.

« I couldn’t get her to let go » apologized Emily, as Sorcha snuggled closer to her when she spoke, frowning a little.

« I wouldn’t let go either if I were asleep on such enticingly soft bosoms… » said Zevran with a smirk, being completely ignored by everyone, but making Emily blush crimson.

« They’re so cute at this age » said Aedan, getting closer and gently stroking the little girl’s brow until her features relaxed again.

« What is it ? » asked Shale, curious

« A child, Shale. Surely you’ve seen some of them in Honnleath ! » said Natia.

« I have, but never clinging to someone that wasn’t its parent.. It is… odd. »

Lyna shrugged.

« Children are taken care of by the whole clan, not just their parents. » the Dalish Elf said.

« And it’s not like you’re going to keep her… right ? » asked Daylen, getting closer to see the little girl, eyes filled with wonder, Neria still glued to his side. Emily knew the children in the Circles probably weren’t manifesting their magic until later, probably their early teens, and a child this young would be a novelty to them...

« Of course not ! Being on the road would be way to dangerous... I just… I wanted to make sure they would be ok, even for a night… »

« Ah, this is probably where all our blankets disappeared to, eh lass ? » asked Duran with a smirk, as Emily started to blush again.

« Yes… the kids were… well, cold. »

Leliana hummed her approval along Wynne, who looked at Emily with a very soft and gentle gaze.

Sten, as per usual, merely grunted.

« Can we go back to the matter at hand if you please ? » asked an impatient Morrigan.

« Right. It seemed that, while we have defeated the undead, there is still much to do… We need to find my brother, and to do so we need to enter the castle. » explained Teagan.

« Before any of this may happen, do you mind if we eat, sleep a bit and wash up ? » asked Daylen.

« Of course ! How silly of me… you must be exhausted ! »

The group nodded.

« Why don’t you go bathe first ? I’ll have a stew and sleeping quarters ready in no time. » said Emily, looking to do her part.

« I’ll help you » said Kaitlyn, who had come up behind them, a sleepy Bevin at her side.

« Thank you » answered Aedan, accepting the offer.

Soon enough, the group was out to get washed up, all of them with a change of clothes. Emily, Sorcha still sleeping in her arms, went to wake the other kids up, before making a sort of bassinet with her blanket in some piece of furniture she couldn’t recognize, and put Sorcha to sleep in it.

The kids were more than happy to help her set up the group’s bedrolls where they had slept previously, while the eldest were helping Kaitlyn to prepare some stew cutting up some apples and cooking porridge for their own breakfast. Some were grouping the children’s belonging back together to make some more space.

The Chantry sisters were conspicuously absent, not once looking to help their little rag tag group in their entreprise.

An hour later, the party had returned to warm beds, the fire having been fed some more logs, and a warm stew. Shale had elected to stay outdoors some more, warming her stone with the sunlight - and crushing the unlucky pigeons that dared perch on her.

They had taken the time to clean their armors, and had let the kids take them from their arms as soon as they had entered the Chantry, the children’s squeals of delight making them laugh. They passed through the building, completely exhasusted, making a beeline to the little place Emily had set up for them, dropping unceremoniously on their designated bedrolls, not even having the time to say a word before little hands put warm bowls of stew in their own. The Grey Wardens gulped down their first helping like starved men and women, Emily ready with the cooking pot and ladle, not waiting for them to lick their bowls clean before she filled them again, all eight of them humming in contentment, while the rest snickered at their behavior.

« So. » Said Leliana, dropping her bowl and spoon by her side, fixing her gaze on Emily, in whose arms Sorcha had climbed back as soon as the little girl had woken up.

« So ? » answered the young woman.

« The last minute informations you gave us proved valuable. »

« … Thanks ? »

Leliana kept her eyes on Emily, seemingly waiting for the brunette to elaborate.

« Can we expect you to keep giving us helpful information as we go along ? » started Sten.

« Yes. »

« Could you give them to us a little earlier so may prepare better ? » asked Zevran.

« For some, yes... for others, no. »

« Why not ? » scoffed Morrigan, crossing her arms.

The Wardens were watching in rapt attention, still eating their stew.

« Because I know the main stuff, not **_all_** the stuff. Some things I know might not happen,because of the seven instead of one thing, and some things I don’t know about are still going to happen, because of the seven instead of one thing... Everything I know about without the shadow of a doubt, you will be privy to. »

They seemed satisfied, while Emily thought for a moment, before amending her statement.

« Well… not really everything, cause you still have very important choices to make, in which I can’t meddle, because if I do tell you - or force you - to choose one over the other, or make it so you don’t have to choose in the first place, then there is no telling what the hell may happen **_THEN_** , but still… Could I even make you **not** choose ? Hm… That would be interesting... Then again, not choosing could bring just about anything, so unless you really went and fucked up bad, I don't think I will even have to meddle... Anyways, I’ll do my best... That is, if I’m not killed.. or kidnapped… or turned into a vegetable after a bad blow to the head… »

« Don’t worry dear » said Morrigan with a scary grin, « If you die I’ll get you back up myself so that you can tell us all your little secrets… »

« That is not comforting, Morrigan… Not comforting **_at all_** … »

« Yes, dear, there are other ways we could get our little Seer to tell us all her secrets… more pleasurable ways… » added Zevran with a devilishly handsome smile.

Emily looked at the assassin, gobsmacked and quickly turning as red as a poppy, while the others tried really hard- and failed - not laugh at her…

Sensing her embarrassment, Sorcha smacked both her little hands on the side of her face, forcing Emily’s eyes down to her, and smiling the brightest child smile at the brunette.

« Ooooh… this is adorable » said Wynne with a gentle smile.

Emily put Sorcha on the ground, telling her to go find and play with the other kids, the little girl throwing a glance at the group before waddling away with a happy giggle. The kids intervention switched the conversation, something for which she was extremely grateful for.

« You seem to have a way with children. Do you have any ? » asked Alistair tentatively, his voice holding a curiosity he was trying to hide.

« No, but I have a flock of nieces and nephews… and I’m a teacher as well. »

« You teach ? »

« Yes. »

« So you’re a scholar then ? »

« Of sorts, yes... »

« What is it you teach ? »

« Well, definitely not magic, and not the Chant either, that's for sure ! Had enough of that one until... forever... Hm. I teach Literature. »

« Really ? »

« Hm hm. I’ve had other jobs, but overall the one I’ve spent most time doing is teaching. »

« What have you been before ? »

« It's a little complicated. I held a few different jobs to pay rent and all the living expenses while I studied... I was a secretary for a time, then a cook for a summer, then I travelled and ended up as a sort of... governess, you might say ? Then a housekeeper, and I when I got back home I worked the bar in a strip club... which is some sort of... tavern, where women and men dance and, well... shed clothing during their performance, while the customers is just throwing bi-coins, at them. »

Duran, Aedan, Zevran and Alistair raised their eyes in interest as she mentioned her last occupation, while Leliana and Wynne narrowed their eyes in disapproval.

« Is there… something wrong ? »

« You worked in a… 'strip club' ? » asked Alistair, trying the word out.

« Serving drinks ? » added Duran

« And tending to patrons ? » finished Aedan

« Hm... Yes ? »

Some of them started to snicker while Alistair blushed and stammered before burying his face in his bowl, Leliana throwing a compassionate look her way, and it dawned on Emily what they meant by ‘tending’ to patrons…

« Ew ! Gross ! No, I did not held **_that_** kind of job ! »

« There are different kinds ? » questioned Daylen, interested.

« Where I’m from, there is only one kind ! When you are a barmaid, you just serve their drinks to the customers, that’s it ! »

« That’s it ? »

« That’s it ! No funny business ! »

« You mean you didn’t… » said Kallian, making an obscene gesture with her hands.

« Oh my… no ! Of course not ! This is a prostitute, and it’s a very, very different kind of job, thank you very much ! Barmaids do not do... that ! I mean, they could, if they wanted to... but their jobs don't... demand it ! » replied Emily.

« Huh » said Natia. « Your world is very strange » she stated, before putting another spoonful of stew in her mouth, leaving Emily fluttering about like a fish, once more crimson in embarrassment and trying to make sense of the whole situation.

They stopped torturing her a few minutes later, all setting their bowls down in a pile and ready to dive into their bedrolls, clean and bellies full.

Emily let them be, instead going outside to assist with the bodies of the dead - and the previously undead -, the corpses being put together in pyres that they would lit as soon as the preparations were done with. 

Teagan went to observe her from the steps of the Chantry, looking at her as if she was some mystery he was waiting to crack, while not saying a word to her. After a couple of hours, she decided to break the silence.

« I can see you looking at me, Bann Teagan Guerin. »

« I am trying to form an opinion of you. »

« Well, I’m flattered, but this is neither the time nor the place. » she answered sarcastically.

« No, quite the contrary, I think this would be the **perfect** timing. »

« Oh really ? » the brunette said, standing upright after dropping yet another bundle of wood on the pyre. 

« Yes. You seem to have formed yours of me already, I would have my own. »

« Then as you wish, my lord bann. »

After she tied up some more twigs together, and set up the makeshift kindling on the pyres, Teagan broke the silence.

« Might I enquire why your opinion of me is so poor ? »

« You may not. »

« How so ? »

Emily could feel Teagan dragging her towards the Game, which she hated with a passion. Everything that had to do with Orlesian politics she had despised in games, and it seemed the Fereldan Bann, while being Fereldan, did enjoy them more than said games had led her to think with their 'Fereldans hate Orlesians politics' trope.

« It is for me to know and for you to wonder. Now if you will » she gestured at her dirty shirt and breaches, and then at his immaculate outfit « there is much work to do still. » She turned on her heels and left the bann alone, a smirk tugging at her lips. While the man may be a good leader, he would not get away with the things he had done and kept on doing. 

The Guerrin brothers would not use Alistair as a pawn to further themselves in the Ferelden court. They would not be rulers by proxy. They would not oversee him like an incompetent child.

She would keep Alistair safe from turning into either the betrayed and broken drunkard, the dead man, the seemingly condemned Warden or the bitter king she had seen him become. As the latter was seemingly connected to Anora and his ‘uncles’, she was set on making sure Alistair would be made king, would not get it in his dead to kill the archdemon himself, and still retained his easy going, caring nature and adorable behavior after a decade ruling a country torn up by the Blight and civil war... The next years promised to be... interesting.

Emily worked alongside the Redcliff inhabitants for a couple more hours, either lost in her thoughts and planning, or partaking in the villagers' sorrows, comforting whom she could.

As soon as the party had woken from their nap and exited the Chantry, the prayers had been recited and the pyres lit. Emily watched, enraptured, as the funeral rites were performed, and the fire burned the bodies.

When that had been done, Teagan led them to the windmill, where he revealed the existence of a secret passage that would allow them entry into the castle, all of them listening to him while Emily had strayed to the tree next to the windmill, enjoying the view the grounds provided, listening distractedly to the noble for the moment she knew his blonde sister-in-law would show up.

Right on her cue, Isolde rushed down the patch to them, acting every bit the panicked mother and wife she ought to be, throwing herself at Teagan in a manner that had most of them raise an eyebrow, while Morrigan and Emily snorted in disbelief. Alistair assured the woman he would do everything to save the arl and the castle, the Orlesian’s behavior turning cold and hard, her fake tears stopping as suddenly as they had appeared, a cruel sneer appearing on her face as she looked at the now man she had demanded be exiled from the only home he had ever known as a boy. Emily bristled as she remembered the fact, her brain supplying artwork of a little, barely into his teens Alistair, locked in a Chantry room.

Before she could say anything however, the Wardens had intervened, mentioning the oddness of her being able to leave and having to return to the cursed place, only demanding Teagan accompany her. Lyna and Neria were watching Emily intently, the brunette answering them with an imperceptible nod that she would explain everything after the woman had gone.

« And the Oscar goes to... » muttered Emily as Isolde made to walk back to the castle, earning confused looks.

She left, waiting, almost tapping her foot, for Teagan up the hill. The man had given them his ring, given his last instructions on how to open and use the secret tunnel, before disappearing after the noblewoman.

In almost perfect synchronisation, the group turned towards Emily, who merely shrugged.

« Let’s go to the tavern. You need some food, and after this show I need an ale. This is gonna take some time. »

* * *

_The Battle of Blenheim_ _,_ Robert Southey

Next : _**Sweet Home Redcliff Castle**_


	7. Sweet Home Recliffe Castle

They all looked at her in awe as she described what they might encounter in the castle, helped along by the little floorplans Alistair had drawn from memory on a corner on the table, only jotting down the main rooms.

« So Teagan is basically serving as this demon’s fool… »

« Yep. »

« And the only way to get him and the situation back to normal is… »

« We’re not killing Connor ! » said Alistair, looking at his fellow wardens to reinforce his statement.

« Why not ? » asked Sten

« It’s not like the little brat can be left alone to run around harboring a demon… » stated Morrigan.

« There might be another way… » said Wynne, looking at Emily with a questioning gaze.

« Which is ? » questioned Duran, arms crossed.

« There is a ritual, during which we can send one of you into the Fade to beat the demon and free the child from possession. » said Neria in a flat voice, though shaken by the knowledge of the fact that Jowan was the one responsible for poisoning the arl… after they had risked Tranquility to help him escape, she couldn’t believe he would have done such a thing.

« How certain are you we can defeat this demon ? » asked Lyna to the mages.

« It’s all on you, depending on what will happen in the Fade, it might work. » answered Daylen.

« So, what ? We’re just going to risk our lives to take a nice little stroll into the fade to kill some demon, on the off chance that it might prove enough to free the kid from actual demonic possession ? It’s too risky. » said Aedan, going against Alistair.

« It’s the best chance we have ! » pleaded the blond man.

« Aedan is not wrong Alistair. » said Kallian in a sweet voice. « What happens if the ritual fails ? »

« We cannot just kill the child without at least trying… » said Leliana.

« I have some… tea, that could make the whole thing rather painless and swift for the little lord, if it comes to this » nodded Zevran.

« No ! »

« Alistair, my first instinct is to try and save the child, and we will try but we have to think of the possibility that we might not be able to save him, or that the ritual might fail. »

« And what to do is the kid attacks, too. We can’t just let him stab us until he tires enough for the ritual to be possible. »

« ’Tis useless to discuss so in any way. While **we** do not know what our decision will provoke, one of us apparently does. »

They turned to Emily, who had kept silent throughout their exchange. She sighed.

« This can go any number of ways. The ritual can be performed through different means. First one, where no one dies : you enter the Fade with help from our quatuor of mages, Jowan, and our stock of lyrium potions, slay the desire demon and save Connor. »

« Yeah ! That’s it, that’s the one we’re ta… » started Alistair, before Natia rose to put a hand on his mouth, stopping him mid-sentence.

« Please, keep going » the dwarf said with a smirk.

« The second is, the ritual is performed via blood magic, which Jowan is now using, sustaining his magic by either his life or that of Isolde. You enter the Fade, slay the demon, save Connor. »

« Do we ever fail in saving Connor ? » asked Zevran

« Not if you slay the demon. As long as it’s down, you succeed in saving the child. »

« I sense a ‘but’ somewhere… » grumbled Duran.

« There is. If you don’t manage to slay the demon… Its hold on Connor can’t be broken. »

« And the other options ? The ones that don’t require the ritual ? »

« You coerce Isolde into killing her only child, or you kill the boy yourself. With the option of knocking her out. »

« That’s… brutal. » said Daylen.

« Yes. Very. She pleads and cries and begs and screams… very disturbing. »

« Is it how the Story goes then ? We must kill the child ? »

« No. The Story changes given the Story-teller’s choice : if they want everyone safe, then everyone is. The Circle mages are called upon to save Connor and perform the ritual. If they want to kill someone, then they can choose to kill Isolde, Jowan or Connor. »

« So do we have to perform the ritual then ? »

« Again, it’s as you wish. You are the ones who have to make the decision. You have three options : ritual without blood magic, ritual with blood magic, kill Connor. You know the risks, you know your enemy and you know your options. I’ve told you the outcomes, but I can’t make the decision for you. »

« What about the soldiers ? Do we have a way not to kill them ? » asked Duran.

« I think you do : if you can knock them out and restrain them, in theory… » started Emily, before being cut off by an excited Neria.

« The demon’s hold on them would be broken too when we defeat it ! » finished the elf mage.

« What she said. » just added the brunette, winking at the now happier elf.

« This could be for the best » said Leliana.

« Saving the boy and the arlessa would make it so arl Eamon would be more in favor of helping us when we’ll confront Loghain in Denerim. » developed Zevran

« You can’t deny that the situation holds risks ! » pushed Aedan

« It does, but it’s better than just killing the kid » said Duran.

« Your duty is to end the Blight, not to save little possessed mages » grunted Sten.

« Let’s put it to a vote then. » said Lyna. « How many for performing the ritual ? »

Alistair, Lyna, Zevran, Kallian, Neria, Daylen, Wynne, Leliana, Duran put their hand up.

« How many against ? »

Morrigan, Sten, and Aedan raised their hands, unhappy at the turnaround.

« Fine. » the nobleman snapped.

« Don’t be a sore loser Ed ! » joked Kallian, pushing his shoulder with her own. « Save the kid, be a hero ! The crowds will go crazy for you. »

« I just… I don’t want anything to happen to any of you. » sighed Aedan.

« Nothing is going to happen to us. We’re Grey Wardens ! We survived Ostagar, we’re invincible ! » said Lyna, standing straighter as she spoke.

« Oh really ? Without my mother you’d all be dead. » said Morrigan, trying to hide her amusement at the elf’s antics.

« Mere details, Witch ! You and Wynne will save us if need be, right ? » said Natia

« I will endeavor to » chuckled the old mage.

« Then it’s settled. We’ll perform the ritual, without blood magic, and save the boy. » said Daylen.

« Thank you » added Alistair, raising a glass to the human mage.

They finished their drinks and little bits of food they were all nibbling on in silence, all deep in thoughts.

When she saw Leliana eying the lute that was obviously in need of some tlc, the question came easily to Emily, desperate to have some conversation flowing so that the impending battle would not be the only thing on their - her - minds.

« Leliana, do you play ? »

« What ? » asked the red-head, surprised

The little brunette nodded towards the lute.

« Do you play ? »

« Oh… why, yes. I was a bard after all… »

« Can you sing a song ? »

The red-head’s expression softened at the question Lyna asked, before shaking her head sadly.

« No. The instrument is in too much dis-repair. I don’t think it is capable of producing anything resembling proper music anymore… »

« Oh… » Neria said, a little disappointed.

They finished their meals in silence, Emily not daring to make any attempt at saying anything anymore.

When it came time to go, they made their way to the windmill once more, Kallian asking the mayor to keep an eye on the teacher.

« I am perfectly capable of coming with you ! »

« No, you’re not » said Duran, crossing his arms on his chest.

« He’s right. We can’t protect you all the time. » said Morrigan

« So… what ? You’re going to leave me here alone ? »

« You’re not alone. You’re with the town folks ! » said Alistair with a cheery smile.

« And with the Chevaliers… » added Aedan

« And the Chantry sisters ! » finished Leliana, clasping her hands giddily.

« Oh joy… » 

Daylen raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t push the issue… for now.

« We just want you safe… you can come in as soon as we’re sure there is no danger. » comforted Neria, putting a hand on her shoulder.

« There is no changing your minds on this, is there ? »

« No chance. » said Natia, smiling at her.

« You can keep one of the mabaris, if you’d like » offered Lyna. « I’m sure Daithi wouldn’t mind… »

« Keep Daithi and Rian, just in case… » said Alistair.

« Your safety is important. » added Wynne.

« Fine ! Fine. I’ll stay behind. Just… don’t get hurt, ok ? » Emiliy said, her eyes dropping on the ground. « I… I don’t want you to be injured either. So don’t be heros, and watch each others’ backs. »

« This is adorable… maybe you can show us how much you care when we get back, yes ? Make sure out backs are watched and tended to… »

Of course Zevran had to ruin it with an innuendo.

« Hush ! Be on your way now ! »

They entered the windmill, opened the passage with Teagan’s ring, and, one by one, made their way down the tunnel, under Emily’s watchful eyes. Alistair was last, and just before he got in, Emily grabbed his arm, holding him back for a little. He turned towards her, a little surprised but not shrugging her hand away from him.

« Don’t forget to get the smith’s daughter, remember, she’s in the last room on the left in the corridor leading to the main hall. And… don’t do anything stupid, ok ? I know you’re attached to this place, but take care of yourself, please ? And you have to come back… to take care of Rian, ok ? »

His eyes softened and a small smile made its way onto his lips.

« I’ll try. And we know exactly what we’re up against thanks to you now ! Everything is going to be fine. ». He put his hand on top of hers, giving it a small squeeze before the brunette let her hand fall and watch him descend into the tunnel, closing the trap door after himself.

————————

As soon as the wooden trap door closed, Alistair’s smile fell from his lips, and he went down the ladder without a word, lips pinched.

What had she meant ? Did she worry about him, or did she think he might be a hindrance to their friends ? She hadn’t been travelling with them for more than a week, but had managed to fit in almost instantly, bonding even with the surly Morrigan, the Witch not as snarky with the strange brunette as she was with the rest of their group - Aedan excluded.

She had never marked any preference for one over the other, and had made her best to include everyone and tried her hardest to avoid the group fracturing into smaller ones, promoting unity and the importance of all eating and sleeping in the same area, pushing Bodhan and his son to share in the group’s fire camp and dinners more than once, the dwarf always accepting her offers with a kind smile after he saw her interact with Sandal and taking a genuine interest in whatever his adopted son had shown her.

Alistair could feel himself growing more and more interested in her mystery, as well as intrigued by her knowledge. Did she really know how the story ended ? If she did, could she know about his mother ? His sister ? Would she tell him if he asked and pressed her for an answer ? She had already told him it was complicated, yes, and he hadn’t asked about his family any further after her cryptic answer, afraid that what she might reveal would match his biggest fears.

Zevran and Kallian noted the ex-almost-templar gloomy behavior immediately, especially when he failed to crack a joke when Daylen had shrieked in a very high pitched voice after catching his hair on a particularly large spider web in the tunnel, Alistair seemingly not paying attention to the capillary predicament their friend was now finding himself into.

« Hey, Alistair, are you feeling fine ? » asked Aedan

« Hm ? What ? »

« Are you ok ? » 

« Oh, yes, I’m fine, just peachy, why ? »

« You seem a little… pensive ? » said Lyna in a gentle voice.

« It’s just… I’ve had a lot to think about, recently… »

« Really ? Does it hurt ? » asked Morrigan with snark.

« I think leaving the little Seer behind weighs heavily on our friend’s mind » said Zevran, smirking.

« What ? Pfff. No… » 

« And that was sooooo convincing. Right guys ? » laughed Natia.

« So… you like her ? » pressed Aedan, eager to know what was on his friend’s mind.

« Littler it likes it ? Why ? It is awkward and not shiny… »

« Ah, young love… » said Wynne to no one one particular, while Alistair was slowly turning redder with each comment.

« I think it’s cute » said Daylen, looking at Neria with a smile. « You deserve something good Alistair, after all that crap… »

« We’re not together ! » cried out Alistair

« But… you like her, yes ? » asked the former Crow

« You like her too ! » whined the templar, waving his arms around in desperation.

« You were watching her. With great interest, I might add. I believe you were… enraptured » said the older mage, eyes glinting with mischief and knowledge.

« She is the one who is the most in need of protection, and unused to travelling. I watch her to make sure she’s fine. »

« Oh, I see… And what does these swaying hips need protecting from, hm ? » asked the mage, Alistair’s ears not red as beets.

« No no no ! I wasn’t… looking at… her… »

« Certainly »

« I gazed… glanced ! In that direction, maybe. But I wasn’t staring… or seeing anything really… »

« Of course »

« Does that mean I can woo the lass then ? » asked Duran with a smile.

« She might prefer a more… a softer partner, maybe ? » pipped Leliana, delighted in making fun of her friend.

« I… ugh… I hate you all. You’re bad people. »

——————————

Emily left the windmill in a daze, the mayor walking by her side while the Rian and Daithi trotted happily in front of her, goofing around as if they were puppies and not war hounds. The dogs were content to play on the path, while the man next to her kept attempting small talk with her. She managed to nod at the right times, as the old man just kept going on about something on supplies, and the necessary repairs that will need to be done for the village on their way down the hill. The brunette wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening until she ended face to face with a dwarf that seemed very familiar in the village square. He, too, seemed to recognize her.

« Hey ! You ! You’re with these Wardens, aren’t you ? » he barked.

« Hm… yes ? » she said, prompting the dwarf’s lips to slip into a wide grin.

« Good ! Mind telling us more about these folks ? »

Emily narrowed her eyes, not trusting the dwarf at all.

« Why ? »

« Might be that someone is looking for them. »

« Might be I’ll break your nose if you ask me again then. » she retorted almost automatically.

« Oh oh oh ! Feisty little thing, are you ! I like it… »

Daithi and Rian came closer, a low growl in the dogs’ throats that made her feel safe and went ignored by the dwarf - but not his henchmen.

« Boss, maybe we… »

« Hush ! No, deary, you’re going to be a good girl, order the mutts to shut it and tell us the tale of this group of yours. »

« I don’t think so. »

« Fine. Have it your way. » at his word, his thugs - who numbered more than two and were closer to twelve from what she could see - either unsheathed daggers and short swords or started advancing menacingly towards her.

The mabaris’ hackles were raised, their warning growls becoming louder, their gaze fixed on the dwarf.

« A little elf told us someone was looking for some Wardens… someone in Denerim. Someone willing to pay a lot of sovereigns for their pretty tainted heads delivered swiftly… »

« Loghain Mac Tyr is a traitor and a paranoid man ! He’ll have you executed as soon as you bring them to him. »

« Well, **_I_** think someone as desperate as him to put such a consequential price on your friends’ heads is likely to reward and praise the ones freeing him of his little… problem. »

The tall and imposing men advanced on her, circling her and throwing looks that made her shudder, the dogs at her side keeping their sights on her assailants. The mayor had retreated into the Chantry as soon as the thugs had drawn their swords and before they enclosed her between them, leaving the young woman alone with the mercenaries… Hopefully to grab some help. The Chevaliers and Ser Perth had retired into the sturdy building to rest after their fight and the pyres. She hoped they would come to her aid… if the mayor asked them to.

« I am not some damsel in distress. » she grunted, looking at the massive wooden door as she turned on her heels to try and face the men that Daithi growled at behind her. 

She knew she only had a few seconds until they would either try to stab or grab her, and she dreaded the moment the fight would break out. She didn’t want to see the mabaris injured on her account… And she didn’t really fancy being kidnapped either.

« Listen, woman. You’re little, you’re cute, you seem to be a kind and reasonable lass. I don’t want to have to tell my men to hurt you and your four legged friends. But I will if you don’t do what I’m telling you. » Dwyn said, looking at with a smirk that said he would, in fact, probably very much enjoy to tell his men to hurt her. The thought made her blood run cold in fear and anger, while Rian barked angrily at the dwarf when he sensed her distress.

« So : sell my friends to save myself some bruises… Or, be taken in by you and your thugs and beaten until they inevitably come back from the castle and watch them kick your ass and kill you in very slow and painful way ? Hm… Such a difficult choice to make, really. » she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm and hatred, looking at Dwyn and his men with disdain. Her assurance in her friends’ return and their abilities, added to the two dangerous dogs accompanying her, gave pause to a few of the thugs, who quickly shrugged it off and kept on dancing around her, ready to attack as soon as their master would give the order. 

Before he could give it however, the Chantry doors opened and a stern but thunderous voice resonated in the little village square.

« What is going on here ? » 

« Nothing, See Chevalier. Go back to protecting the sisters and the citizens. »

« I will not be ordered by the likes of you ! Now answer the question ! »

« Nothing is going on, Ser. We’re just having a friendly chat with the lass here. »

« Milady ? » asked Ser Perth, looking at her from the steps of the Chantry, a hand on the pommel of his sword. She could see the other Chevaliers at his side, ready to step into the fray should it come to that. The children’s frightened little faces peaking from behind the armored men, their teary eyes focused on her.

« A friendly talk indeed, Ser. Which is now over » the brunette said, putting her hands on the dogs heads to calm them down, and directing the last part of her sentence towards the dwarf, who was obviously contrite at the turn of event. 

« Good. » said the knight, hand relaxing from his weapon « the children seem to have been asking after you, my lady. They have been requesting stories. »

« And I shall deliver. Gentlemen » she nodded at the thugs, who didn’t move until their master nodded at them to do so. They parted grudgingly, attentively watching her and the two imposing mabaris climb the steps of the Chantry and getting into the safety of the building, behind the knights, until the doors closed and she was hidden from their view. She noted that not one of the Sisters or even the Mother were paying attention to the children or the situation, making it difficult for Emily to get a hold of her anger.

The children instantly flocked to her, Sorcha demanding to be held while the older ones looked at her with worry, the younger ones clutching at her top and her legs as well as the mabaris, who were actively trying to cover the children in slob. She could feel her fear and adrenaline slowly ebbing away thanks to their presence.

« There, there, little ones » she said in a gentle tone, the children reminding her of her nieces and nephews after a bad dream. « Ser Perth here said you wanted a story ? »

They all nodded their little heads, their fear easily forgotten with a promise of a tale.

« Well then, let’s set up for a nap and I’ll tell you the story of the Little Mermaid, how does that sound ? »

———————

« She didn’t mention the dogs !! » whinned Kallian, covered in fur and blood.

« She did, actually. » absently reminded her Daylen, who was petting Eimear’s head and tending to a bite on the mabari’s hind leg.

« Oh… did she ? »

« Yeah. We must be close to the hall, then. »

« We are… though we have to get someone on the way »

« Oh ? »

« Remember the smith’s daughter ? She’s hiding in one of the rooms further down. » pointed Alistair.

« Oh… right… Let’s get her then ! » said Natia, walking purposefully towards the corridor… only to step right into a trap, her scream of pain when it closed on her leg attracting another group of skeletons and demons.

« Here we go again… » sighed Duran, raisin his war axe and charging at the enemy with a loud cry.

« Home sweet home… » gloomily said Alistair, before holding his shield and charging after the dwarf, Aedan with him.

The mages instinctively protected the warriors with barriers spells, before slamming the skeletons with arcane spells in a melee of red, green and blue magic, Morrigan cackling as she casted. Leliana had started firing her bow, swiftly taking down the few monstrosities that managed to go through the warriors, and making sure they wouldn’t be overrun. Zevran had slipped into the shadows, and a loud bang revealed he had been making explosive traps further up the corridor.

Wynne was getting Netia out of the trap and tending to her leg, healing the deep gouges in no time. The casteless dwarf stood up as soon as the flesh had knitted together, and had joined the fray like a madwoman, soon covered in blood and demon residue again, laughing her head off as she was taking their ennemies down.

* * *

_Sweet Home Alabama_ _,_ Lynyrd Skynyrd

Next : _ **Kick Ass Sword That's Made to Maim and Kill**_


	8. Kick Ass Sword That's Made to Maim and Kill

They had come back from Redcliffe Castle tired and covered in gore. They had managed to not kill a great number of the men under the demon’s control thanks to Emily’s warning - and to Alistair’s delight. They had successfully completed the ritual without having to use blood magic given their impressive stash of lyrium potions and the number of mages in their party, the happy ending for the family a welcome reprieve from the death and sadness that permeated the place. Connor had been saved, Isolde and Jowan still stood, the blood mage expressing deep regrets to Daylen and Neria about his choices and his involvement in the situation. The had vehemently defended him against Teagan and Isolde’s demand to execute the mage as soon as the ritual had been completed, the arlessa tutting around like a contrite child ready to throw a temper tantrum.

They had taken their time to make sure they had killed every single monster and demon in the castle, entering every room to thoroughly check them.

The only thing that was left to do was finding the Temple of Ashes and save Eamon, and Redcliffe would be safe.

They had made their way down from the hill, stinky but smiling, into the village and the Chantry to retrieve their now dried clothing from the previous day in the hopes of taking another bath and having a repeat of the previous night / morning.

The Chantry had been filled to the brim with thankful citizens of Redcliffe, and after the many thanks and blessings bestowed upon them by commoners and chantry sisters alike, they had made their way into their little corner… Only to find Emily once more used as a giant pillow by the kids, the brunette asleep while sitting propped up against the wooden bookcase, Sorcha’s little hands tangled in her shirt.

They had refused to shake her awake, and had instead discreetly gone through their packs for the mandatory soaps and towels a bath required. They exited the Chantry quickly, making their way to the river bank, Daithi and Rian hot on their heels, happy to be reunited with their chosen humans and pack mates after an afternoon apart. 

They joined Perth and his men, barring the one standing guard at the Chantry doors that had given them a nod on their way in and out, and their group had unwinded alongside the knights, an easy camaraderie and banter setting up.

After a while, Ser Perth took Alistair aside for a minute, intent on explaining to the man what had happened.

« He **_WHAT_** ?! »

« Peace. He said he wanted her to tell him about your group, more specifically the Wardens. Loghain’s name was thrown, and the dwarf had his thugs ready to beat the young woman into submission. It is a good thing you left the two beasts behind, or else I fear I couldn’t have prevented him from just taking her. »

« How dare… little sniveling shit… » Alistair was seething.

« What’s going on ? Why are you so angry ? »

« Did a fish bite you ? »

« Did you step on a sharp rock ? »

« What did you tell him that had him so worked up, Ser Perth ? »

« Your friend was nearly attacked by Dwyn, the dwarf whom you paid to defend the village. »

« **_WHAT_** ?!? »

The chevalier took a step back at the sudden flare of emotions directed his way.

« Peace, friends. She was safely removed from the situation and kept inside the Chantry, one of my men guarding the door. He nor his men will be able to harm her in there. »

« You sure about that ? » asked Duran, eyes serious and arms crossed on his broad, hairy chest.

« I am. The undead couldn’t break in, I doubt he will attempt it. »

« Apparently, a certain someone from Denerim wants us captured, dead or alive, and delivered to him. » announced Alistair to his fellow Wardens.

« That sniveling little… » started Aedan, getting even more worked up.

« I say we go to Denerim next and kill the bastard. » bristled Kallian. 

« We can’t go to Denerim until we have Eamon up and in shape though » said Daylen, frowning.

« Sacred Ashes, then Denerim ? » asked Lyna

« I’m afraid we still require the support of the dwarves and the elves as well. Who knows if Loghain isn’t waiting for us with an army… » Leliana’s melodious voice interjected.

« What do you propose then ? We can’t just ignore this ! » 

« A price on your heads isn’t going to make matters easier » remarked Zevran.

« Why do we care ? We can easily dispatch the threat should it arise » said Morrigan dismissively.

« It would be better to not have to do it… remember those men in Lothering ? They were but poor men and refugees, trying to feed their families » reminded Leliana.

« And now these thugs here… after my own attempt on your lives, I have to say I’m disappointed this dwarf thought to go through our lovely companion as a way to get to us. »

« How so ? » asked a puzzled Neria at Zevran’s remark

« It is dishonorable. » concluded the Antivan assassin, Natia nodding her approval behind him.

« He went for her because she cannot fight. There is no honor in hurting the helpless » said Sten, his first interaction in the group’s discussion since it had begun.

« Then we’ll have to teach her ! » said Lyna, clapping her hands. « Leliana and I can teach her to shoot a bow ! And Kallian can show her how to use daggers ! »

« It’s not a bad idea… » drawled Morrigan

« We’d have to train her quickly » added Leliana.

« We’ll make time on the road. We can lose a couple hours of travel to teach her to fight in camp, don’t you think ? » proposed Aedan, to which the group approved.

« It would not do to have it dead » grumbled Shale.

« There is still the matter of the dwarf. » said Alistair, still angry.

« Aye. He will be dealt with » said Duran. He had taken a liking to the young woman, who reminded him of the little sister he wished to have.

« Painfully » finished Kallian with a wolfish smile.

The group finished bathing in silence, each of them imagining the ways they would make the dwarf and his mercenaries pay for what they had intended to do to their friend, while Ser Perth and his knights watched them with concerned, amused, and slightly afraid eyes.

————————

Emily woke up to the pitter patter of paws and feet and hushed whispers. She opened her eyes to find her companions setting down their bedrolls, readying themselves for the evening, the warm and tantalizing smell of a stew wafting to her nose.

« How did it go ? » asked the brunette is a yawn.

« Emily ! How are you ? »

« I’m fine, I should be the one asking you that. Is everyone ok ? Was anyone injured ? »

« No wound of importance that I couldn’t easily heal » said Wynne in a reassuring voice.

« Good » said Emily, releasing a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. « That’s good. »

« How are you dealing with your ordeal ? » asked Leliana

« My ordeal ? » 

« Ser Perth told us about the almost ambush. »

« Oh… that. Well, I’m fine. Nothing happened. You guys would have come for me anyways… right ? »

« Of course ! »

« As if we could have let you in this dwarf’s paws… » scoffed Natia

« But… you would have been hurt ! »

« Just the thought of what he tried to do made us want to hunt him down. »

« Hunt him down ? »

They all shared a sheepish look before answering.

« We kinda went to his house to… knock some sense into him. He was gone. »

Emily opened her eyes wide, panicked, now fully awake.

« The chest ! » she said in a strangled voice « Was the chest still there ?! »

« The chest ? »

« The chest ! The locked chest ! Was it still there ?! »

« I think it was… » pensively answered Neria

« Why ? »

« Is there something wrong ? »

« The sword is in there ! Sten’s sword ! Damnit ! How the fuck could I forget about this ! »

She rose up as fast as she could, miraculously managing it without waking the children from their nap on her, hurriedly making her way to the Chantry doors as soon as the kids were settled. Sten was hot on her heels, a confused Alistair and Leliana with him. Their little group left the building in a hurry, the young woman letting the Qunari lead the way until they found themselves in front of the wooden door. Sten kicked it down with one kick, little debris of wood flying all around. They stepped in the room as soon the dust settled.

Alistair grabbed the fire poker, using it as a crowbar to open the chest in spite of the heavy lock placed on it by its owner. After some grunting and help from Sten, both men managed to break through the lock, and opened the chest to find clothing and linens.

Emily frowned as Sten took a step back, growling low in anger at the false hope. The young woman felt around, until she found what she was looking for, grabbing a wrapped piece of cloth that she unwound to reveal the Qunari sword, barely taking the time to admire it before reverently handing it to Sten, waiting for the Qunari to seize the familiar handle.

Sten tentatively took it from her, eyes wide, silent, before affirming his grip on the weapon. Emily took a step back and watched him twirl the sword in the air, getting reacquainted with his weapon.

He raised a thankful look to her, slightly bowing his head to her.

« I… thank you. You are worthy. »

« Are you going to start calling me basalit-an then ? » Emily said in a giddy tone, exploding in laughter as the Qunari looked at her in shock, and their companions in confusion.

« What’s that ? Baslitan ? » asked Leliana

« No, more like… Basaltan ? » tried Alistair

« I shall indeed call you such, human. » said Sten, while ignoring the other two. His answer had Emily’s jaw to the floor.

« Really ? You don’t have to Sten, it was a joke, I… »

« No. I will, of my own volition. »

« So… what does it mean ? »

« Basalit-an. It is a mark of respect. I… I am honored, Sten. »

He bowed his head to her, and she to him, under the still very much confused eyes of Leliana and Alistair. They left Dwyn’s home as swiftly as they came in, and made their way back to the Chantry, the never seen before large smile gracing Sten’s lips prompting some raised eyebrows and questions that had them laugh and learn well into the night.

The next morning they entrusted the care and well-being of the orphaned children to the chantry sisters, Emily impressing on Teagan the fact that she would ultimately hold him accountable if anything happened to the kids. The goodbyes had been teary-eyed, and they left Redcliffe to escort Kaitlin and Bevin to Denerim, where Emily told them they would start finding clues concerning the whereabouts of brother Genitivi.

* * *

_World After_ _,_ Susan Ee

Next : _**I'm Dynamite**_


	9. I'm Dynamite

It was as if they were in one of these action packed movies, moving around their opponents gracefully, each covering the other, a deadly dance that put their ennemies to their knees in pain before their heads went flying at the expert twist of a sword.  
The Disciples of Andraste were not having a good day.  
The smell of pine, ice, snow and burned flesh permeated the air, mixing with that of sweat to create a surprising combination that had Emily eager to drop her crossbow and either join the fray or dance **_Dirty Dancing_** style. Adrenaline, girl…

With a twist of his wrist, Aedan decapitated yet another of the crazy dragon revering inhabitant of Haven, while Leliana stuck an arrow into the chest of one coming at them from the side. Kallian was playing with the shadows, appearing and disappearing at will, only to reappear with a strike that spurted blood around her like a halo. Morrigan was twirling with her staff, each spell hitting its mark and inflicting considerable damage, alternating between her human form and her bear one, wreaking havoc and chaos. The four of them were truly a unit of destruction, holding their right flank.

Then again, they all held their own rather well, working naturally together, each aware of the other, the Wardens wordlessly sensing when their friends were overwhelmed, the mabaris dancing around their enemies, going from one group to the other, driving their victims out of the fray to tear at their throats and limbs, maws covered in blood and bits of flesh hanging from their teeth, before looking proudly at the group member closest to them before diving back into the fight.

Natia and Zevran were working with Neria, another sight to behold. They were almost invisible to the eye, Natia twirling on the battlefield as if she were performing a complicated ballet known only to her, Zevran’s own deadly choreography sometimes intertwining with her before parting ways again. Neria was acting like a partner for the both of them, her magic mingling seamlessly with their fighting styles, lending both defense and offense as needed.

Alistair, Duran and Sten were fighting together, some sort of wild and untamed mess of fighting that, against all odds, had a balance and was a sight to behold. The giant weapons they were wielding with expertise were testimonies of their talent. The three of them were ruthless, and had taken the front, acting like a first line and piling bodies in front of them. Their enduring stamina and screams of delight - Sten - and of taunt were building an unmistakable tension and growing fear amongst their ennemies.

Last were not least were Shale, Lyna and Daylen, each of them so different if was not hard to keep track of who was were and doing what. Daylen had fully embraced Wynne’s lessons, acting as support with a definite - and spicy - side of destruction, wreaking havoc in their opponent’s ranks. Shale was just barreling through the men and women as if they were toy soldiers, sending them to crash against the pine trees and down the river banks, the sickening sound of crunching bones seemingly enthralling the golem, her crystals pulsating with light. Lyna was shooting everything with a deadly precision, moving around their little designated area as if she were completely and utterly at ease, sometimes climbing over Shale and landing back on the ground with her bow secured to her back, daggers in hands again and severing tendons like crazy.

Wynne and herself were in the middle, the eye of the storm, safely protected on all sides. The old mage was acting as a mobile health unit while the young woman was shooting with her newly acquired crossbow - apparently the ‘safest option’ for her to lend her aid to her companions at the moment, as her lessons had only just started. She was quite happy about her aim, but still refused the shoot if the shot might turn into friendly fire. Still, she was taking down her fair share of adversaries, if she might say so - even though it was nowhere near the numbers her companions were mowing down at this very moment.

They had almost seemed disappointed when no one but them had been left standing, adrenalin still humming in their blood, reveling in their victory.

Wynne and Daylen had made quick work of the little scrapes their comrades sported, before they had made their way further down the path, further away from the Calenhad Docks, and had found a nice little spot in which they could spend the night.

Surprisingly enough for Emily, it hadn’t been just the Spoiled Princess : houses and key businesses were huddled around the inn, apparently thriving thanks to their proximity to the Circle Tower and the presence of Templars. Some even had families settled in the little community ! 

Unlike in the game, the group had been attacked just outside of the little village, not in the square, and she was thankful for that : none of the villagers should have to wake up and see dead bodies in the morning…

« Won’t there be… wolves, or spiders attracted by the corpses ? » enquired Emily, curious.

« No, we’ve made it far enough for them not to be a bother to us. »

« Oh… alright. »

« Are you afraid of spiders ? »

« … maybe ? »

« You’re scared of spiders ? Why ? »

« They have **_EIGHT_** legs, Lyna. Eight ! Nothing needs this many legs. And have you seen the size of some of the spiders here ? They are **_HUGE_** ! And their eyes ! Their beady little eyes, a shit ton of them, always looking, ready to pounce, sting me and wrap me in their web like a… like a swaddled baby, unable to move… Frodo style » a shudder went through her, disgust perfectly visible on her face.

« Spider are quite useful, you know » interfered Morrigan.

« I’m fine with the little ones that stay away, and I’m fine with you turning into one. It’s temporary. And it’s not like you would eat me… » the brunette frowned, turning to the witch with mock concern, ending her sentence with narrowed eyes and a suspicious and exaggerated tone meant as a joke « or would you ? » 

« If only to get back at you for refusing to tell us where brother Genitivi is » growled Aedan. 

He hated the fact that the brunette had refused to tell them where the brother was, insisting that it was part of the timeline, and that she couldn’t change the order of things if she wanted to still be able to have things happen when - and where - they ought to. She really didn’t want them to end up at the Landsmeet early and having to stay in Denerim for weeks, further at the mercy of Loghain and Anora. Or worse : derail the timeline entirely and have the Archdemon attack them someplace she didn’t know of, ensuring whatever knowledge she had would then be nul and void…

Then she would be really helpless.

The human noble had grudgingly accepted her explanation, and so had his fellow wardens, even if he had taken her refusal worst than they did. Not even Morrigan, who agreed with Emily - and was a huge part of why the young woman stood firm in her decision - had managed to make him see the logic in this.

Kaillan had said being blind would be worse, Zevran nodding his agreement. 

Lyna had accepted her reason without a tantrum after Asha’Bellanar name was whispered.

Daylen and Neria were just happy to be able to travel.

Wynne refused to fight, just accepting her reasons, while mentioning that her knowledge of the situation was still accelerating their progression.

Natia had accepted her justifications with a grumble - she hadn’t liked it very much either - , muttering about some « crazy Seer shit ».

Duran had only said her logic was sound, joining Lyna in her quick acceptance of the subject matter.

Shale had said that, as long as they could give her shiny cristals, she didn’t care, while Sten had merely grunted and said he didn’t like the thought of traipsing around Ferelden instead of going to kill Loghain. Emily was preparing herself for a long and tiresome explanation once they neared Haven, not entirely sure of what would happen once there.

Alistair had agreed with her, saying he didn’t really understand it but trusted her to make the right choice. She had melted and given him the biggest hug.

The mabaris didn’t care at all, perfectly content with their daily belly rubs and the grooming she had taken to do for them : they were starting to smell much nicer, much to Wynne and Morrigan’s joy. 

« Aedan » Natia sighed.

« I know, I know… time line and all. »

« How about, whenever there is something we can definitely skip I’ll tell you ? »

« … »

« Oh, come on… » prompted Leliana

« Fine. But that doesn’t make up for this ! We’re wasting time ! »

They all narrowed his eyes at his accusing tone, Emily flinching at the accusation.

« You know why we can’t deviate, Aedan » soothed Morrigan, trying to get through to her lover.

« Yeah, well, I don’t have to like it ! »

« Hey ! Watch it, long legs ! » said Duran, coming protectively towards Emily, squeezing her forearm in a silent show of support.

« We can’t stay in Denerim too long. A couple hours is already a lot, especially with your faces and my past here » said Kallian, tone pinched.

« This is sound logic, especially if you want to keep your head, my friend. » enforced Zevran.

« I don’t think Emily would hide things from us if she weren’t certain it was for the best » assured Wynne.

« It is trial and error here Aedan, and we can’t afford the ‘errors’ part if you guys want to stay alive and stop this Blight… »

« I don’t know of anyone who’s been in this predicament before. » nodded Morrigan

« The only thing I know is that the archdemon has to be defeated, and I can only help you get the upper hand if I know what’s going to happen. We can limit the losses and save lives if I know what happens. If we don’t… then there’s no saying what might happen. »

« Oh… that makes me think, do you know which old god it is this time ? »

« It’s Urthemiel. There’s only two left after this one : Razikale, and Lusacan. Or might be three, some people say it’s eight old gods rather than seven… »

She narrowed her eyes, thinking about something she hadn’t thought of before, but pushing it down before her mouth could run on her and throw her into a line of thinking that would lead them all down sad and depressing paths.

« Soooo… once we’ve gotten this one down, just two more, eh ? » said Alistair, a little too happily, obviously trying to change the mood.

« Don’t get ahead of yourself » chuckled Daylen.

« We might die horrible deaths killing this one » added Neria, while Emily kept silent.

« Fo course we won’t ! We defeat the Blight ! Emily said so ! » chirped Lyna

« She also said there was only supposed to be two of you » said Morrigan.

« Right… this I still don’t understand. » grumbled Natia.

« It’s not for us to try and find an explanation to the situation. It just is » offered Wynne.

« We can’t do anything about it right now. Maybe it will end up being only Alistair and one of us in the final fight, but there’s no way to know who’s going to fall or not. Right ? » enquired Duran.

Emily realized that the dwarf was right. Which meant, they might die, and she would be able to do nothing to prevent it because she hadn’t even known about it. The thought was unsettling.

« Yes… » reluctantly admitted Emily.

« So anything goes ? » asked a curious Kallian

« _Look at them_ » the little voice in her head whispered, « _so ready to trust you, so ready to fight… so sure they’ll win and still be there to celebrate… and yet all but one might die before the final battle… and you haven’t told them of the cost of their victory…_ » 

Emily shock her head, pushed the voice out, and choked back some tears.

« I… I can’t. I’m sorry, I… I don’t know… I don’t know… I don’t… I could only ever dream of falling into your world, or any other for that matter, and even then I never asked myself ‘is me just being going to derail the whole world ?’… I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know what’s **_supposed_** to happen with seven of you here. Morrigan, Alistair, Sten, Shale, Leliana, Zevran, even fucking Oghren, I know what supposed to happen with them, but you guys… I don’t know what seven of you here, alive and together means. For all I know, you could all die because of this… »

They were staring at her, Emily’s eyes shinning with tears she refused to let fall, Alistair’s comforting presence and his arm around her pressing her into his side in a silent encouragement to keep going.

« I’m so, so sorry… what if my presence is what fucked up the Story ? What if I’m responsible for this whole mess ? What if you… what if you die because I got it wrong ? Or what if I get it right and you die anyway ? What if it doesn’t actually goes how the Story says it goes ? What if the Story is just a little part of something bigger, incomplete on its own ? I can’t deal with this, I can’t deal with the knowledge that if I fuck up, just once, it might mean one of you dies… One mistake, one life. How the fuck is that fair ?! I can’t get everything right all the time !I can’t ! Fuck, I almost forgot about Sten’s sword ! And that was pretty freaking major, ok ! And, Dwyn wasn’t supposed to want to sell you out to Loghain either ! What was that about ? That was fucking new ! And the kids ! There weren’t so many kids. A couple, at most, but lord here they are a dime a dozen ! Orphans who lost their parents… What if it’s my fault ? What if protecting the timeline means I knowingly condemn these unsuspecting people to death ? I probably already killed hundreds just by insisting you follow the timeline… what if saving you means killing them ? »

They all looked at her, weighing her words carefully, taking into account her dilemma and her questions. Alistair was eerily silent, just rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder while holding her to him, as if she - or he - would break if he let go… And she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t if he stopped comforting her at this moment.

After a while, Morrigan spoke up.

« I have an idea »

Emily raised her head at her friend, eyes hopeful.

« Let’s put it to the test. »

« How ? »

« You decide on a piece of the Story that we can skip, or that you can make us skip or go faster through, as in several days faster rather than hours. And we see. If things keep going seamlessly from then, then you know we can skip ahead with no consequences. If things don’t follow as they’re supposed to, then we go back to the way things were supposed to be. »

« That… could work »

« What should we do then ? »

« When should we try ? »

« We can… We can try it now, if you want… it’s… ok. »

« Aedan, my friend, it seems like you’re getting your wish ! »

The man kept silent, watching Emily intently, oblivious to Zevran’s comment.

« Genitivi is in Haven. »

« Haven ? » asked Daylen

« Where is that ? » added Natia

« It’s in the Frostback Mountains. » answered Lyna

« Why would Genitivi be doing there… » wondered Leliana « This place is extremely secluded ! »

« It is. And it’s also the reason why no one found the Ashes so far : they cultists we fought are part of a clan that dedicated their life to protecting the legacy of Andraste. They are extremely wary of strangers. »

« So, what’s to be expected of these cultist people ? » asked Alistair, still beside her, his arm still around her shoulder, looking down at her with his adorable smile.

« They venerate a high dragon that lives in the Temple below the Mountain. They think it’s Andraste reborn, or something like that… They are fanatics, very dangerous, very devout. Genitivi is alive, but held prisonner. »

« And Waylon ? »

« Dead. »

« Ah… the one we saw was an imposter, then. » hummed Zevran

« Yes. They wanted to make sure no one would follow. »

« Why ? »

« To protect their faith. I mean, in the Story, sometimes you guys choose to desecrate the Urn of Sacred Ashes by dropping some weird blood into it. »

« I’m sorry, we what ? » questioned Alistair, unable the believe the word he heard.

« What ? » asked a horrified Leliana.

« This is horrible ! » added Wynne, truly distraught

« I’m sorry… it’s an option in the Story. You also have to choose between keeping the location of the ashes a secret, and have to kill Genitivi, or reveal it to Thedas. »

« What are the consequences ? »

« The urn either disappears if Genitivi is left to his own device instead of accompanying you, or if you don’t kill the high-dragon. But whatever happens, the Chantry makes the temple a place of pilgrimage, with or without the Urn there. They just looooove their moneymaking schemes, these ones… »

« Kill a high dragon ? » asked Sten.

« Oh, yes… sorry about that Sten… you could leave it alive, but it is eventually going to die… Better by the hand of someone who knows the meaning of it, and will be honor the beast accordingly, don’t you think ? »

« Hm… » groaned the Qunari in approval.

« Did I hear that right ? Kill a dragon ? » asked Duran

« Yes. Kill, or skirt around as silently as possible. »

« Oh Maker… » swore a - very - pale Neria, Daylen holding her close.

« Better catch as much sleep as we can then… » said her lover, turning to the rest of the group with a half-smile. « Good night, everyone. »

With that, the two mages retired to their tent. The group slowly broke apart, Aedan and Zevran bunking together with Alistair while Shale took her ever watchful spot by the fire place. Sten went to the little tent he occupied alone, Morrigan following suit to her own tent. Leliana and Wynne were bunking together, while Kallian and Natia were sharing another for the night. The mabaris settled in their little spot under a tarp, perfectly content to be able to come and fo as they pleased. Lyna and Emily were bunking in the last tent.

As they laid down to sleep, they quickly realized they wouldn’t be able to sleep, still riding the emotions of the evening down.

« Hey ? »

« Hm ? »

« How is my clan doing ? »

Emily frowned.

« Well… they are on their way to Kirkwall. Or will be, in a couple of months… I never remember when they get there… They are fine, for now. »

« Kirkwall ? »

« They’re trying to escape the Blight. »

« Oh… »

Emily waited for the question she knew was coming.

« How do you know ? »

« They’re… the second Story happens in Kirkwall. »

« The Free Marches ? But… why ? »

Emily shrugged.

« Don’t know. That’s just where the story tellers thought it should happen. »

« And what is going to happen to them there ? »

« Do you… How close were you to Merrill ? »

« Merrill ? The First ? »

« Hm hm » acquiesced Emily.

« Not very… we were friends as children, but when she manifested as a mage… she immediately went under the tutelage of the Keeper. She is fascinated by our history. »

Emily winced at the words, which Lyna didn’t fail to notice.

« What was that ? »

« Nothing… Lyna, if we survive this… Would you come with me to Kirkwall ? I need to… I’d like to go there, after this is all over. There might… I need to go. »

« I understand… I think I’d like that. But… Just you and me ? »

« Yes… Why do you ask ? »

« No reason… »

« Come on. Spill. »

« Do you… Do you think Zevran might want to come ? »

Emily grinned at her friend.

« So… you and Zev, aye ? »

Lyna blushed furiously.

« Nothing happened yet, he just… he’s so… free. »

« That he is… though beware of the baggage he carries. He is a good man. Caring, loving, extremely romantic when he wants to be… Don’t let his past scare you. He’ll tell you when he’ll be ready, but… Just know that if he does this… it means he really cares about you, too. »

Lyna was still blushing, and said nothing, making Emily smile even more.

« Has he recited the Antivan poetry yet ? »

« He has ! It is… it’s terrible ! »

« And then, he just blurts out he killed the woman… »

« Maker ! He is just as awkward as Alistair sometimes… It’s like the smooth Zevran disappeared ! »

« And when he tried to take his deep, ‘seductive’ voice ! »

« Oh my… And he just keeps on saying he grew up in a brothel, it’s quite… intriguing. »

« He did, though. It’s not just inane skills, he was… taught. Or learned by exposition. »

Lyna giggled, a sweet little sound that seemed to warm the air.

« And he is so well traveled, too… so smart. »

« Have you seen the tattoos yet ? »

« Well, they’re on his face, you can’t really miss them… »

Emily raised a knowing eyebrow at her friend, who suddenly caught on her meaning

« You mean… there’s more ? »

« Why do you think he never bathes close to us ? Or with his back to us ? »

« But… why would he hide them ? »

« Don’t know… he never seemed to be the type to hide his body. »

« I know… It’s just… it’s a little frustrating, you know ? He never actually tells me anything. »

« I think he already has, da’len. »

Lyna looked at Emily with wide eyes.

« How do you… »

« It means child in elvhen, does it not ? »

« Yes, but… I’m not a child, you know. »

« How old are you ? »

« 19 this Spring. »

« Da’len. » sais Emily, mussing Lyna’s hair.

« Why ? How old are you, **_Hahren_**? » jokingly asked Lyna.

« 32 this Autumn »

Lyna’s eyes widened even more, becoming two round beads of shock and disbelief.

« You don’t look any older than me ! »

« That’s really kind of you to say » chuckled Emily.

The elf shook her head.

« No… Really, you’re just… it’s like you’re my age ! »

The words of her friend and her adamant tone gave the teacher pause, brows twisting in a frown.

« Really ? »

« Yes. I thought you’d not be older than me… And I’m not even the youngest… »

« Really ? Who is ? » asked Emily, genuinely interested in the answer. This was one thing she never actually thought about in the game was the ages of the protagonists. She had a ballpark estimate, of course, but she never got so interested in this detail as to go look for a canon answer.

« Neria. She just turned 17. Then me. Then it’s Kallian and Daylen, they’re both 19. Then Alistair, who’s 20. »

« Alistair is 20 ? »

« Just so. »

« Oh my… »

She knew he had been young, but 20 ? And Cailan wasn’t supposed to be much older either, which meant the king died before he could reach his 30th birthday… And now? 

« Then you have Natia, 23, then Leliana who’s 24, then Morrigan at 25. Aedan is 26, just like Zevran, and Duran is 31. 

« And the rest ? »

« I don’t know how old Sten is… Wynne is nearing her 60th winter. »

« And Shale is nearly a thousand years old… » reflected Emily

« What ? »

« Oh, yeah, don’t tell her though. »

« Hm… Sure… But… »

« She’ll know soon enough. No need to stress her out needlessly. »

« As you say… »

Both friends stayed silent for a little, both having some things to think about.

« Do I really look younger ? »

« Yes. »

« That’s… I mean, thank you for saying so, but… I’ve always looked my age. I’ve never looked older, or younger. People are usually right on when they guess. »

« Do you… Do you think perhaps… you got younger when you got here ? »

Emily thought about the probability of things for a moment, before shrugging in defeat. Nothing about the situation was rational. It would be crazy to expect this would be while the rest wasn’t.

« I don’t know. Everything that’s been happening to me should not have been possible, so why not this, too… It would make sense, though… In a way. If I look like I’m the same age as the protagonists of the stories, then I relate, I blend in… But the protagonists are already my age, so… Fuck. I don’t know… » she mused « the real problem is that the only being I know of who could have brought me here and… get me younger as well, is… »

« Asha’Bellanar »

« Spot on. »

« How do you know about her, by the way ? »

« The Story… she’s present in all three of them. She… she sorta makes things go the way they are supposed to ? Without her… »

Emily suddenly realized that, without Flemeth, there wouldn’t actually be a Story to tell. 

The Wardens die in Orzamar.  
Hawke dies in the Korcari Wild fleeing Lothering…  
And the Dread Wolf… 

She shuddered at the thought, Lyna’s hand coming to grab hers in a gentle reassuring gesture, anchoring her back into the present.

« If we reach Kirkwall in time, I’ll tell you all about her. You might be able to see her, too… If we can make it. »

« Really ? »

« Really. Though… if you ever see her, and I’m not there, please… do not trust her. She isn’t who she seems to be. She is dangerous, in ways I can’t exactly tell you about now. »

« Why not ? »

« Well… I don’t know how exactly, but it’s like she always knows everything. »

« Like you do ? »

« No, worse. I only know specific, key events. She knows… everything. All the time. Everywhere. Always. She probably knows of me, too, even if she wasn’t the one who brought me here. »

« That’s… disturbing. And a little scary. »

« It is… And she’s just… Nevermind that. If you ever meet her, please, don’t promise her anything, or do anything for her unless this is your last resort, or accept to serve her or something like that, ok ? »

Lyna nodded, eyes focused on Emily’s, listening intently.

« And… don’t take vallaslins. »

« Why not ? » asked the elf, shocked.

« Because… they’re not what you think they are. »

« They are traditions ! A rite of passage ! Why shouldn’t I get mine ? »

« Your people think they are a mark a freedom, yes ? A sign that they refuse to bow down to _shems_ , and that they are an honor to the gods you worship, right ? »

Lyna only nodded, Emily’s voice having dropped to a whisper.

« They’re not. Before… Before Arlathan fell, they were the marks the Evanuris and the nobles put on their slaves. A sign of ownership. They themselves, the higher ups, were free of vallaslins. The marks bound the wearer in service to the god the markings belonged to. »

« A sign of… of slavery ? »

« Yes… I’m sorry, Lyna… I… I hope you understand why I told you. »

The elf stayed silent for a moment, processing what she had just learned, before slightly nodding her head in acceptance.

« You believe freedom to be paramount, and knowledge is a form of freedom… Is this revealed in the Story then ? »

« No… well, sorta. »

« Sorta ? »

« It’s an Evanuris who reveals it to another character from the last Story. »

Another look of shock painted itself on Lyna’s delicate features.

« They’re not all gone ? »

« Two still remain in Thedas. One will awoken soon, if not already, while the second has been roaming the lands for quite a while… »

Lyna looked at her friend, who was now lost in her thoughts. She took Emily’s hand back in hers, pressing gently on her fingers.

« It’s ok. We’ll get through this. And then we’ll go meet up with my clan in Kirkwall »

« I’ll hold you to that » answered the brunette with a smile.

The two women spent some time talking about random things, following the twists and new directions the conversation was taking them to, before closing their eyes and welcoming the darkness, exhausted by the day and the unexpected turns of the discussion.

* * *

_T.N.T_ , AC/DC

Next : _ **False Confidence**_


	10. False Confidence

Waking up in the middle of the night after a nightmare wasn’t unusual.  
Waking up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and finding eight Grey Wardens huddled together near the camp fire after visions of the archdemon was a little less so.

Emily had woken up in the tent alone, the nightmare and its content slipping away from her memory as soon as her consciousness had taken over. She had looked for Lyna, who should have been asleep next to her, but had found the nothing, the bedroll still a little warm to the touch indicating that her friend hadn’t left too long ago. The brunette chased the remnants of sleep from her eyes, and exited the tent with her blanket around her shoulders. She had found the wardens discussing together in hushed whispers, sitting close together. All of them seemed a little shaken, and Alistair seemed to be in the middle of his in game explanation of what the nightmare truly was. They would start to understand what the Joining meant now, how much of a death sentence becoming a Warden truly was…

Neria saw her coming from the corner of her eyes, twisting in Daylen’s arms to cuddle further into him, tapping the little free space on the log next to her. Emily gladly sat down next to her friend, the elven woman wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing her upper back in a soothing motion.

« Nightmares ? »

« Yes… though I doubt it was of the same nature as yours. »

« Ah… so the Story spoke of them then ? »

The brunette nodded, eyes sad and still tired from her restless sleep.

« Are they going to get worse ? »

« Sometimes they are said to be. I don’t really remember… I’m sorry. »

« As long as it doesn’t actually the Archdemon, dreaming about it is fine by me… » sighed Daylen.

« ‘There is evil there that does not sleep, and the great eye is ever watchful…’ » murmured Emily, the Lord of the Rings quote coming to her easily. The words frightened Neria, who burrowed further into Daylen’s side.

« Em… »

« Sorry, Neria… I wanted… I don’t know. »

« That was terrifying, though… » said Daylen, before opening his eyes wide and fixing the women down in an expression that wanted to be inquisitorial, but only made them smile. He wiggled his eyebrows, and added, in a deep voice :  « I see you, too. »

The three of them snickered, all huddled together like penguins on the ice bank. Emily turned her eyes to the rest of the group, trying to analyse their reactions. Aedan seemed to be holding up, while Duran had deep frown lines on his brow. Natia seemed to be equally disturbed : she probably feared what would happen to her people, the casteless, if they delayed… The were the less protected members of dwarven society, and should Orzammar be overrun, they would be the first to die, their peers probably refusing them entry and safety inside their defensible walls…

Kallian seemed to be holding up alright, all in all. She had been able to see some family while passing through Denerim, and knowledge of their relative safety had brought her some peace, quelling her worries. It didn’t fully erase the human threat, but at least they would be safe from the taint. The warden mages seemed exhausted, but somewhat used to the situation. Emily deduced that fighting demon to prevent possession was probably as exhausting, if not more so, that having dreams about a corrupted dragon… Finding comfort in one who understood their past struggles seemed to be a great help in how they dealt with the situation.

Surprisingly enough, Lyna seemed the more distraught of the lot, clearly unused to an evil presence inviting itself in her dreams. She was looking around like a frightened animal every time the fire cracked of a noise of the forest could be heard. She seemed to refuse the comfort the other wardens offered each other, and was sitting slightly isolated from the rest of them, sitting next to none of them, leaving some space between her and the others, Alistair sitting further down the log on her left while she was on the extremity of the wooden seat.

Emily sighted, and rose, squeezing Neria’s hand, and made her way towards her two friends, plopping down between the two, putting an arm around Lyna and pulling the young elven woman against herself. Surprised by the movement, the young elf didn’t try to get away, accepting the closeness even when it was clear she was trying to refuse it.

« Come on da’len. I know you’re a hugger. » whispered Emily into her hair, her hand coming to rest on her friend’s untamed copper mane, gently stroking the locks in a soothing motion.

« No, I’m… » started the elf, stopping when she noticed the unimpressed look the teacher was giving her. She burrowed further into Emily’s warmth, eliciting a chuckle from the brunette.

« That’s more like it… »

« Hey, what do I need to do to get a hug too… » joked Alistair.

Emily turned her face to him, smiling at her friend and opening her arm to invite him in her embrace.

« Come here you big man-child »

The man didn’t even try to refute the statement, but instead of cuddling up to her, he pulled on her and Lyna’s shoulder, surprising both women, who fell towards him with little shrieks of laughter.

« There. Better. » said Alistair, his voice rumbling against her ear, which was pressed on his chest.

His hand carded into Lyna’s hair as well, joining her ministration to the smaller woman who was starting to fall asleep on her chest, like Sorcha had been doing all these days ago.

« Oh, look at you guys… so adorable » cooed Duran with a smile.

« The perfect family picture… » added Aedan

« A very weird family, then… » said Emily, grumbling, but a smile tugging her lips upwards.

« Well, we’re all little weird here, it was to be expected. » piped up Neria, looking at her friends happily.

« They look more like siblings, though… » said Natia pensively

« No, they really don’t… they have nothing in common ! » laughed Daylen

« Well, we do, actually : the three of us are awesome, and have to deal with you guys. »

« True enough… »

A comfortable silence settled onto the group, Emily enjoying the warmth the fire and the Warden sandwich she was in providing all the warmth she needed. She could swear Wardens seemed to be running warmer that ‘regular’ human, no doubt an after effect of the Joining. Alistair seemed to run even warmer though, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the dragon blood running through his veins…

Her thoughts started to wander, and some things she had thought were unimportant started to come together, a puzzle she didn’t know even existed slowly appearing in front her.

His father, Maric, was a descendent of Calenhad, which was what was currently earning him his imprisonment in Ath Velanis - which she definitely had to do something about. But the power of the dragon blood was not well known. Instead of just boosting magical abilities with his blood, could it be the reason why Fiona was no longer tainted after giving birth to Alistair ? After all, she shouldn’t have been able to have a child in the first place if the Story was to be believed… But if the dragon blood could cure a Warden from the taint, then maybe Wardens wouldn’t have to die when they started to hear the call ? Maybe, when they found Levi Dryden and would inevitably end up at Soldier’s Peak, she could convince Avernus to research the effect of the Theirin blood ? Maybe the Wardens didn’t have to die at Adamant 10 years from now ? Maybe she could stop Clarel’s madness and give Weisshaupt a good kick in the butt…

But that meant…

That meant she would have to tell Alistair about his mother. His real mother, not the cover up Eamon thought ‘would be best’… After his meeting with Goldanna, after he realizes his ‘sister' is not who he thought her to be, she would sit him down, provide copious amount of ale, and tell him of his lineage.  


From then on, she could probably even try to prevent the Venatori from using the mages, if she could convince the future king of Ferelden to lend his aid to the rebellion when their hour of need would come… Or just Soldier’s Peak, really. Just a place, a safe place, for them to run to when the time would come. A place they could rest without fearing a smite or an arrow in the back… Yes. That would be for the best. Lay down the breadcrumbs, lead the mouse to freedom instead of a trap…

All of this however, depended on whether or not the ‘changing’ of some events and the skipping forward they would be able to do with her knowledge of them would happen as best it could, or of the attempt would explode in their faces, wreaking even more chaos in the wake of their failed attempt.

Until then, it would all be a game of guessing and experimenting.

But she was sure of one thing : if she was to be the one to bear the consequences, she would bear them alone, and protect them whatever the cost.

A Happy Ending was worth everything.

* * *

_False Confidence_ , Noah Kahan

Next : **_Because if I have a wicked step-aunt and two evil step-uncles, aren't I supposed to get a prince ?_**


	11. Because if I have a wicked step-aunt and two evil step-uncles, aren't I supposed to get a prince ?

It had, surprisingly enough, all gone according to the plan.

They had made their way to Haven, defeated the cultists without having to kill the villagers, Sten hadn’t try to fight a Warden, they had found brother Genitivi and not let him out of their sight, the Urn of Sacred Ashes hadn’t been desecrated - nor had it disappeared -, they had gained the upper hand and defeated Kolgrim, and then they had even managed to kill the high dragon as well ! That had ended with a qunari and a reaver dwarf drenched in blood but grinning madly, while the other group members that had the misfortune of being in close enough range to the beast to be sprayed by its blood had just made disgusted noises. The fact that the mages and archers didn’t have a drop of blood - or dirt - on them didn’t seem to be helping their mood one bit…

Emily, thinking of Avernus and his research, managed to discreetly fill a few vials with the dragon’s blood, and had wrapped them securely in her bedroll to avoid breakage.

They had grabbed a handful of Ashes on their way out, Alistair putting them in a little pouch secured at his neck, under his armor.

They had decided to make their way back to Redcliffe as soon as possible to cure Eamon from the poison holding him in a coma. Emily had a lot of fun explaining what it was to them when they stopped for a much needed bath.

All in all, an honest day of work.

They had gone back to the town, traded some more with the inhabitants, and had made their way back down the Frostbacks, stopping after putting some distance between them and Haven for some much needed rest.

They had set up camp, taken the time to tend to their bruises by applying several different salves and poultices. They had done some laundry as well, using snow and soap to clean their mostly blood-soaked clothing. Some well placed traps had yielded enough hares for them to be able to make a delicious stew, their last potatoes and onions going into their cauldron. Dinner had been a quick and silent affair, each enjoying the warmth the meal provided along with the reprieve from their day their evening provided. A few jokes had been told, and stories shared, and Emily’s snickering mention of seven meals when the Wardens said they were hungry again not an hour after the pots was cleaned had thrown them in contemplative - and envious - state of mind.

Alistair was trying very hard not to drool all over himself when she mentioned the stocked up larders and pantries the hobbits were known to possess, while Duran had groaned when she had mentioned the wondrous ales the fictional people were known for. 

They had kept their previous sleeping arrangements, each of them finding solace in the familiarity that was developing between themselves and their bunkmate. They had agreed to change their bunking pairings as soon as they would reach their ‘main’ camp - which was were Bodhan and Sandal were camping, and where their carts and traveling supplies were kept… Which was currently located in Redcliffe, as they had decided the safety the village and castle provided would be preferable to the unknown tracking Brother Gentivi’s whereabouts had entailed.

The tracking of the devout scholar was the first time they had been separated from the merchant and his enchanter son for a substantial amount of time, the trip taking them almost three weeks to complete. Their initial travelling time had, however, been greatly reduced thanks to the horses Teagan had given them. Emily was anxious to return to their friends, and eager to see if Sandal had managed to make any progress on the making of some specific runes they had talked about. She was seriously considering asking Dagna for help when they would come across the young woman. She would probably be delighted by Sandal and his innate talents and knowledge, and while studying in the Circle would be of paramount importance, the brunette knew her inner fangirl would squee in delight as the sight of the arcanist extraordinaire that had managed to craft a rune breaking Samson’s armor and spying/recording stones… amongst other things. For now, she would have to ensure they had enough supplies in Redcliffe for themselves, their allies and the droves of refugees that would most probably arrive soon…

They had made their way down and out the Frostback Mountains easily enough, and had ridden hard to Redcliffe as soon as the weather and terrain had permitted. The frost and snow covering the ground had, thankfully, not wounded their mounts’ soles, the shoes, while not being made to resist the cold, being of good enough quality.

Teagan, Isolde and Connor had welcomed them with open arms and big smiles - the orlesian woman still going out of her way to ignore Alistair while still being warm and welcoming to his travelling companions, who had, of course, noticed her little game.

They had given Eamon the pinch of Sacred Ashes, and the arl had woken soon after, his brother and wife welcoming him back from his slumber, before said wife fled his rooms, leaving Teagan to tackle the heavy task of explaining to the man what had happened since his poisoning… Emily was convinced Isolde had left to be able to spin her own story once the shock and initial anger would wear off, leaving only relief in their wake. The woman was sly, more than what the game had shown…

In the meantime, the arlessa was leading them through the castle, which was, again, much bigger than what Emily had expected. The main ‘layout’ she remembered was still there, but there were a great many more rooms, and a couple more floors… While she was lost in her admiration of the architecture, the rest of the party didn’t know wether to be awe - or not - of their host’s talent for making one feel unwelcome while openly saying the contrary.

« Orlesians… » had sighed more than once most of their party members at her little jabs.

None of their little group could hide their unease with the woman once they had truly caught on her now barely concealed little mind games, and the one they were directed to. 

Alistair was struggling to keep still, his hands fidgeting on the pommel of his sword, his fingers tracing the outlines of his armor or tapping erratic little rhythms on his poleyn or vambrace, desperately trying to hide the movement. 

Once the novelty of the architecture had worn off, Emily had found herself watching him, and was struggling to not reach out to him - and so were their companions it seemed.

Unsurprisingly, it had been Aedan who had snapped first, bringing down their collective ire on the Orlesian woman, after yet another snarky remark directed at Alistair.

« Could we have… could we ask the servants to draw a couple of warm baths ? Or… Or have them tell us… or where the baths are kept ? We… hum… or can we request use of the bathhouse ? We are… well, we traveled for the better part of the week… Sun, long days, all that… and we didn’t even stop to bathe, we a… » had stammered Alistair, looking every bit the lost and mistreated boy he had been while living here.

« Alistair » had started Isolde, interrupting the blond man, « I see you are ever the blabbering child… I will have the servants do what’s needed… Your friends certainly deserve the reprieve the castle can offer… » the omission hadn’t been lost on them, neither was her tone, and, when they had grind their teeth to stop themselves from answering, Aedan hadn’t had such restraints.

« So Alistair is to stay in filthy armor and clothing then ? » had asked the man.

« Or course not » had answered Isolde. « the servants will draw as many warms baths as needed for your… companions, and yourself, serah. **_You_** are a guest of high importance and status. » The way she had emphasized the word had meant everything, and the sneer she had given to the mages and the elves in their group had Emily frown and bristle. Oblivious to the reaction, Isolde kept on. « Alistair is… to put it mildly, let’s just say the boy is wild. He spent much time in the kennels as a child, you see… he is… not used to the finer things, while I suspect you are, my lord. » she had said in a sweet tone, eyeing Aedan like a cook would a piece of meat in the butcher shop. 

Sickening.

« Mmhh » grunted Duran, hand on the pommel of his axe. Isolde ignored her, and kept on going, drawling the words out in a sultry voice.

« My lord… I was under the impression we would… understand each other. While it does not fall to me to judge the likes of those whom the Grey Wardens see fit to recruit or conscript… » she had given another pointed look at the non-humans in their party, unable to hide the slight turn of her lips as she did so, her disgust visible for a second before the careful smile went back up « … it is obvious some are of a more agreeable nature than the rest. Surely, kni…».

« Indeed alressa. It does not fall to you to judge my companions… And, because they are my companions, I expect you to treat them as you would me. »

Emily winced, perfectly aware of the word the Orlesian had been about to pronounce before Aedan’s interruption. She was angry, he was angry, and all of them were already regretting their choice of not using her as a sacrifice.

Had she always been such a bitch in the games ? Sly, yes, but this side of Isolde was… new. Uncomfortably so.

« Ser, I… » stammered the lady of the house.

« I know your kind, my lady. And I would have you know mine. Like I would have you know that you owe your current happy situation to the determination of the man you so despise. It was he who campaigned to save you **_and_** your son, in spite of our better judgement, or what the situation demanded. »

Isolde paled at Aedan’s words, taking an involuntary step back, that had Emily smile and wishing she could fist-bump her friend.

« I… My… How dare you… »

« I dare nothing but speak the truth, my lady… Now, if you please, we are quite weary, and all of us look forward to your husband’s hospitality. »

Isolde didn’t even bothered answering, walking ahead of them wordlessly in her haste to get this whole encounter over with.

Alistair had a genuine smile on his face, one that could be seen in his gaze and drew the cutest little laugh lines on the corner of his eyes. Aedan soundlessly clapped him on the shoulder, most of their companions nodding at him and beaming at the barely more experienced warden.

Isolde, while refusing to look back, had asked the first servant they saw to direct them to the rooms prepared for them, and had fled down a corridor, no doubt to go find her husband and his brother. She hadn’t even spared them a glanced or excused herself. The elven servant had been confused at her lady’s behavior, before diligently guiding them around, and ensuring warm baths would be drawn for them all, as well as having whetting stones and oils brought to their chambers.

The attention had Sten smiling with delight, the Qunari turning giddy at the thought of being able to properly take care of his weapon. He hadn’t been able to really do so while on the road, the ever present threat of a darkspawn attack keeping everyone on their toes and unwilling to start something they wouldn’t be certain to finish, only giving their equipment basic, quick care.

The brunette suspected their quiet friend would spend more than a few hours with his blade, the thought making her smile. He deserved to be happy, and if taking care of his weapon would make him a little less moody, then she was all for it.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Aedan and Morrigan walking a little closer than necessary, as were Zevran and Lyna, the Crow hanging on the every word of the elven woman. She seemed to have made a point in telling them stories from her clan whenever they traveled. He had taken an interest in the stories, and Lyna was delighted by his attentions. The Antivan assassin was falling for their Dalish warden.

The two young mages were amazed at their freedom, reveling in the absence of Templars or wary looks, while enjoying the small touches and marks of affections that had been frowned upon in the Circles. Wynne was watching them with a softness Emily could only describe as similar’s to a mother’s bearing witness to her children’s first love. It was very endearing, almost sickening sweet. 

Alistair, freed from the heavy presence of the lady of the manor, was looking a lot more at ease and relaxed, no longer tripping on his words and walking a lot less stiffly. Duran’s ire had melted away, the dwarf’s beard - always impeccably braided and oiled - moving in rhythm with his laughter as he was retelling a story of his youth in the palace.  
In the darkness of the halls, they looked every bit the regal princes they were, even still covered in grime. 

As for herself - and most of her companions she’d wager - she would welcome the warm bath and the little luxuries the castle provided - like the lavender or orange blossom bath oils and soaps she knew were hidden somewhere… And which hunt Leliana was most likely going to join her for. ****

* * *

Original Quote : « Because if I have a wicked step-mother and two evil step-sisters, aren't I supposed to get a prince ? »  
_If I Have a Wicked Stepmother, Where's My Prince ? _ _,_ Melissa Kantor

Next :  _ **Wanna See How Creepy I Can Be ?** _


	12. Wanna See How Creepy I can be ?

Their habit of eating together gave them the perfect excuse to ask for their evening meal to be delivered to Aedan’s room, who had ended up with the largest one - perhaps in an attempt for their hostess to get on his good graces ? Emily had her opinions on the matter, as well as a few others…

They were sitting, cross legged, on cushions and covers they had thrown on the floor, and were chatting happily. It reminded Emily of that one scene in The Hobbit, of the Company sitting together and happily burning furniture to roast their meats after the overabundance of vegetables Elrond had served them… The thought had her chuckle, the sound mingling with her friends’ happy chatter.

After their meal, it was back to business, the ever looming threat of the Blight and Loghain weighing heavily on everyone’s minds.

« Alistair. »

« Hm ? »

« I believe there is something you ought to reveal to our companions… don’t you agree ? »

The blond ex-almost-templar blushed, and stammered.

« I… I… yes, that would be for the best… »

« Ooooooh… Secrets ? » asked Leliana, slightly cocking her head to the side, eyes gleaming in delight.

« Indeed… »

« I… You guys know I grew up in Redcliffe, right ? »

« Yes, it was brought to our attention » answered an amused Duran.

« Right, hum… I… I was raised here, in the castle, by Arl Eamon, until he sent me away to the Chantry… »

« Yeah… that’s what you told us. » shrugged Neria, not really knowing where he was going.

« The… The reason he raised me, is… because of who my father is… I…Hm… _IamMarric’sbastardsonandI’mapparentlynextinlinetobeking_. »

The silence that ensued was hilarious - to Emily, anyways. You could hear a pin drop, and she didn’t know if she ought to fangirl, laugh at her friends’ shock, comfort the very uneasy Alistair or… a combination of the three.

It seemed no one knew how to react either.

« Come on guys… »

« If you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to lie. » frowned Natia.

« Oh… I can see it, though… » said Aedan, studying Alistair’s face with rapt attention.

« Well, he certainly does look a little like Cailan… » wondered Daylen, Neria nodding by his side, inching closer to their fellow Warden.

« A bastard, hey… »

Alistair’s lowered his head in shame at the word, Emily looking at Zevran with a shocked expression.

« Out of all of them… I expected this word from anyone but you, Zevran. » her disappointment was clear, and it took the assassin by surprise. He hung his head low, looking at his cup confused and - dare she say - a little ashamed of himself.

It gave their friends some time to come to terms with what Alistair had just dropped on them. 

« Is that why Duncan sent you with us ? To the Tower of Ishal ? »

« I suppose so… »

« It is. For all his big talk, I think the fact that Aedan, Duran and Alistair are nobility played a little in the balance… and he was very fond of him, too. »

« So… why did he send us then ? I mean… why eight of us ? »

« Well, you were the newest members, and unused to combat. No sense in having you die on the battlefields when you could clear the tower. And… It was… Bigger on the inside » was the only explanation Emily offered, to their outmost confusion for the latest part.

« So, dear Seer, what did our good actions in this quaint little place gained us ? » asked Morrigan, ignoring the latter part of the conversation.

« Well, dear Witch, tomorrow Arl Eamon will pledge his armies to this noble cause, will arrange to call for a Landsmeet at Denerim during an oh so not-so-secret meeting with out Warden companions, and, last but not not least, will try to convince Alistair to seize the throne of Ferelden during said Landsmeet. »

« What ? »

« So he really is Maric’s son ? »

« Yep. »

« Damn… »

« My thoughts exactly. »

« You know… If Alistair takes the throne of Ferelden in Denerim, and Duran Orzammar… Celene will shit her pants »

The dwarf perked up at the words.

« The Story ? »

Emily shrugged.

« No… but so much has changed already, why not try to make it so ? Harrowmont is a disaster for social and economic development, he literally condemns Orzammar when he closes the doors, and the way he treats the caste-less is just… Big, fat, NO. And Bhelen… » she winced, looking at Duran in sympathy. 

« Bhelen is just a dirty, lying, cheating, murdering little weasel who would stop at nothing to get his grubby hands on whatever he wants. If he weren’t my brother… I would love nothing than slap him with a darkspawn’s arm… »

« That is… oddly specific. »

« You think ? It’s not unusual… Not surprising at all. I have a very detailed plan for what I wished to be able to do to many of the baddies, or questionnable people, that are in the Story - and even some who were not. Bhelen, Howe and Loghain… Meredith, Celene, Gaspard, Floriane, all the lying little war-mongering people who just want more, more more more… Always more, no matter who dies in their wake, as long as they have more… »

Her words left them wondering, a little shaken at her reaction.

« Hm… Should I really become king ? »

« Alistair… you’re the only one who doesn’t want it. The only one who doesn’t want more. You know, there is a saying where I’m from… **_Leaders should not seek power, but have power thrust upon them. »_**

« Wise words… » said Wynne, nodding approvingly.

«You are the only person who I’m certain will not fuck Thedas over if put in a position of power. »

« That’s a lot of trust to put in one man » said Alistair, head hanging low, refusing to meet his friends’ gaze..

« I know. Don’t worry, if it all goes according to plan, you’ll have help… »

She gestured to the rest of the group, who seemed a little perturbed at her words, but eagerly nodded in show of support to their friend. Alistair had raised his head a little and blushed at the show of confidence in him.

« And if you do fuck up, you’ll have to deal with me… » Emily smiled devilishly « You know what, no. If you fuck up… I’ll send Morrigan after you. »

The Witch smiled, delighted, as Alistair blanched a little.

—————————

As she had said, the next morning Arl Eamon asked the Wardens and his brother to his study, and exposed his plan to them. All that was said to them had been repeated to their companions as soon as the seven warden-recruits had been out of the room and back to the wing they all were on, while Alistair had been requested to stay to discuss ‘important matters’ with his former care-taker and his brother.

Which Emily took as her cue to waltz in as soon as she had convinced Natia to show her the way, the grinning dwarven woman opening the door in a mock-bow, the guards unwilling to stop her after she had bared her teeth at them and grunted to stay where they were if they wanted to have children. 

Emily really thought she was awesome, and made a mental note to spend more time with Natia, as she seemed more at ease with her now that she had been before. Probably the result of admitting to having imagines ways to kill people that had wronged her, but Emilly wanted to believe that they would end up as friends. Her inner teenager would not accept any less.

Storming into the study, Natia helpfully closing the door behind her as swiftly as she had opened it, she found herself facing a very irate and red Eamon, and an obviously relieved Alistair - if his little smile was anything to get by.

Time to play the Game.

« How dare yo… »

« Arl Eamon ! We finally meet ! Bann Tegan. » said Emily, her eyes not leaving the older Guerrin even as she greeted the younger one.

« This is the… woman I told you about, brother. »

« My lords, she is one of my companions… » explained Alistair quickly.

Eamon huffed, looking her up and down, seizing her up before continuing.

« And you are… »

« Emily. »

Eamon raised a brow at her, waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn’t give him her last name.

« Your friend seems to be very dear to you and your companions, Alistair, even if she cannot defend herself. » piped up Teagan.

« Hrmf… I’m hardly a damsel in distress. »

« What ? »

« We are teaching her… She can use a crossbow well enough »

« I… see. »

She really didn’t like the way he looked at her.

« My questionnable skills in battle are not the reason I burst in on your little… meeting, my lords. »

« And what reason would you have to interrupt a discussion between one you call your friend and his uncles ? »

She scoffed, and sat on one of the chairs in a way that she hoped screamed she wasn’t intimidated by them, while desperately trying to get her heartbeat back under control. Her heart was beating so hard it was a wonder they couldn’t hear it… But putting on a brave face while being terrified was something she was used to, and so she pushed on.

« You are hardly his uncles, my lords. At best, Alistair was your ward, whom you took on very reluctantly in an attempt to save your sister’s honor. An illegitimate son would have caused quite the scandal at court, even if Denerim was not as bad as Halamshiral… »

« Was ? »

« The one who currently occupies the capital makes it a truth long passed. »

« I see… »

« I doubt you do. »

« So you barged in to tell us you know of Alistair’s… circumstances ? »

« Amongst other things. »

« Our sister was queen, we couldn’t let her husband’s bastard run around court. » said Teagan, oblivious to the way Alistair tensed at the use of the ‘b’ word. She had been careful not to use it, knowing her friend hated it, but it seemed the Bann of Rainesfere had no such considerations. 

« Marric gave him to you to raise. He wanted his son to grow up free of the prejudice of illegitimacy, free of the shackles royalty comes with. He wanted Alistair to be free to chose his own path. Instead, you had him sleep in the kennels, treated him like he wasn’t worth any more than a stray dog… The father figure you were supposed to be was nowhere to be found. And then your wife, dearest Isolde, convinced you to give him to the Chantry to soothe her wounded pride… How much did the Mother pay for the son of your king ? A handsome fee I am sure, for a pawn she could mold and manipulate to her will, with enough leverage at court to further her ambitions to sit on the Sunburst Throne when the time would come… »

« It was not… »

« Oh, but it was, wasn’t it ? It’s always the same song. Different tune, but the same words.You know, I knew I didn’t like you, but I had nothing to justify it… Until I learned of the letter you sent Cailan… The one he kept and even brought to Ostagar. You were quite insistent, and I suppose this hadn’t been the first suggestion of the like that you made him ? Cailan, like a dutiful nephew, listened to your advice, but could never follow through with discarding Anora on suspicions on barrenness… »

Eamon tensed, Teagan looking at him in surprise, while Alistair tried his hardest to keep a straight face, pretending to be in the know.

« You couldn’t possibly know… »

« But I do. And so does your former ward, my lord Arl. Now. I didn’t interrupt your meeting for petty threats… » she frowned, losing her composure for a brief second. « Wait, no, actually, I did… My point is, you will not manipulate Alistair like you did Cailan. You will not lead him to his downfall with your scheming, and you will certainly not try to control his every decision once he is king. You will not push to become regent, and you will never bypass his judgement in favor of your own. »

Eamon was almost to his limits, his knuckles almost white on the wooden board of his desk with the strength of his grip.

« Or ? »

« Or I’ll make sure you lose everything you hold dear… it would be a shame to see Connor sent to a Circle and Isolde judged for protecting an apostate while hiring another, wouldn’t it ? Especially in the times to come… Or perhaps it would be for the best, who knows… »

Emily was trying really hard to control her breathing and keep a poker face, but she could feel herself slip more and more. Keeping a straight face and being under control at all times was exhausting, and it had been a long time since she had to maintain a passive face for so long. She rose from the chair, made a show of smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her breaches, and curtsied in a mocking way.

« Now if you will, my lords, Alistair is needed in order for the Wardens to make a decision on the course of action we will take next. »

The blond got up as well and walked to her.

« My lords Arl and Bann » he said, nodding his head at them, before surprisingly offering his arm to Emily, which she took gratefully. She gave him a small smile to convey her thanks, which he returned with a wink.

They exited to room together, welcomed on the other side by Natia, who was grinning madly, before sauntering off down the corridor back to their rooms, giving them some privacy.

« Now, what was that ? »

« Nothing. »

« With the face Eamon was making, I hardly believe it to be nothing… »

« It’s just… Alistair. When you become king, you can’t let him weasel his way into power. You can’t let him make decisions for you. You always have a choice, and you will always have the final say. You know that, right ? »

« It seems surreal… I have lived a long time without choices, just having to deal with whatever people wanted me to be or do… »

« I know Alistair… Becoming a Warden was the first decision you made for yourself, and leaving will be hard. Harder than you imagine, even, but you’re not helpless anymore. You can say no to something, and no one will be able to force it on you. »

« How can you be so certain of this ? »

« Because you’ll have help. They won’t leave after the Blight is defeated, you know. Even with the ‘Wardens can’t be involved in politics’ thing, they’re your friends. They’ll stay if you ask them to. Them, and almost all the others too. »

« Maker… you’re really something, you know ? »

« Thank you, I try my best. » she smiled.

They made it the rest of the way in silence, the voices of their friends becoming louder and louder as they got closer to Aedan’s room.

They slipped in, their friends turning towards them as the door creaked shut.

« So, where to next, Ô illustrious leaders ? The dwarves or the elves ? »

* * *

_Hogfather_ , Terry Pratchett

Next : _**Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown**_


	13. Let life be like music / And death a note unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ! Shit has been hitting the fan recently - being shut in with my family has revealed some issues, and this was the result of the need to evacuate the emotions... It's a little dark, as will be the next one.  
> Hope you like it in spite if this :)

After their very eventful night at camp, they had decided to stay in the same spot another night, taking the day to rest from the emotions the evening had brought forth.

They had been making great time on their journey as well, and since they were a few weeks early thanks to Emily, had all decided an off day would not come bite them on the ass later on.

They had gotten back on the road rested, Zevran back to making 15 innuendos a minute, to Aedan and Morrigan’s despair… since all of them had been about their ‘nightly exertions’. Emily had even joined in, making a couple of inside jokes no one but herself understood about a potential Kieran. It had flown very high above everybody’s head, and she found herself very smug about it, refusing to answer their pleas for an explanation.

On their first day at the doors of Orzammar however, things seemed to have conspired against them, and everything went to hell…

The deadly choreographies were back in full swings, and their blades and arrows breaking the air, combined with the crackling sounds of magic could almost be mistaken for music.

They had know they would be walking in on Loghain’s men murdering a survivor - a deserter ? - from Ostagar, Emily had told them. She had told them of the man, of his role back at camp in what seemed like ages ago. She had told them, and yet, the numbers of mercenaries hired by the Traitor had still taken them all by surprise.

They had started to realize things were not how they were supposed to be when they noticed Emily had the same horrified surprised on her face, her eyes wide and pupils blown in fear.

The rallying cries of the men easily clued them in on what was happening. The Redcliffe elf, Berwick, and that handsy asshole Dwyn had apparently reported to Loghain, **another** deviation from the Story. The word had gotten out about her. They were no longer underestimated by their opponent. And they were currently paying the price.

As she hacked her opponents to pieces, she tried to understand what had gone wrong. What had happened to make the Story change so ? And before she could think of an answer she was satisfied with…

She was dying.

She was dying, and it was her fault.

She was dying, she was dead, and her blood was on her hands.

For saying too little, or too much… 

For changing too little, or too much…

She couldn’t think, couldn’t remember, couldn’t see past her pain and the ambush they had walked right into, the irregularities she had caused in the Story causing it to desperately grasp at her reality to straighten and go back to what it was supposed to be, and before she could react her side had been pierced by her opponent’s blade, a soldier not older than she was wielding the instrument that would send her six feet under, to Hades, Falon’Din, Hela or whoever was in charge here…

She fell, she saw her falling, felt herself cry out in anguish and fear and pain and her ears were filled with screaming and _oh please no_ don’t… _please no_ save her _I’ll do anything please not her_ , not her, not her not her not her not her not her not her not her not her not her… ** _NOT HER_** … She dove in, not caring about the way her side burned, not seeing the way the man went limp after Zevran’s daggers found their mark, or the arrows and elemental spells that cleared the path as she went, focused only on **her**.

She couldn’t stop but scream it in her mind, repeating the words as she heard them, her movements becoming sluggish and fading away with the blood seeping into the cold, hard ground beneath her feet.

She got there just in time, throwing herself between the blade and her friend, the other woman’s shock at seeing Emily taking a blow meant for her short lived when the sword completely went through the leather armor and piercing that of the one person Emily had been desperately trying to save, drawing blood.

The man fell back, the hammer that flew to his chest taking him backwards. The sword went out both women with the thug, crimson red instantly staining the moss covered forest floor.

She fell to her knees, and a scream ripped from her throat as that of her friends’ finally registered with her, her emotions saturating the air, guilt and sorrow and agony and despair and misery and anguish and pain and… awareness, of everything rushing back towards her all at once.

She gasped in pain and from the overflow of emotions, unable to grasp at them as they washed over her, trying to catch onto something before it slipped away… like a drowning man trying to breathe.

She can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t see, it hurts, it hurts it hurts.. burning bright, consuming her like fire, burning through her, her emotions, her senses, her flesh, her blood, her bones, everything was alight with pain and burning and **_PLEASE MAKE IT STOP IT HURTS !_**

Please make it stop, please please please please please please please not her, anyone but her, take anyone but her…

Maker no, not her… 

Andraste watch over her… 

May the Ancestors’ guide her… 

Ar lasa mala revas, ma falon…

She was dying, she was, and she could feel it and it hurt and… if **_she_** died too, it would all have been for nothing.

And his voice, bellowing over any other, anger, denial and despair the driving forces behind his words, making her smile in anguish while anchoring her spirit to her dying form, refusing to let her go, refusing to admit she was dying…

« **PLEASE NOT HER** ! »

* * *

_The Collected Poems_ , Langston Hughes

**_Next : Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear_ **


	14. Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst ! Not essential to the plot, feel free to skip ^^
> 
> Disclaimer : My parents are very much alive (though they did use to do some of the stuff Emily's parents did), my relatives are NOT awful, I have more than 2 siblings and while yes, they are little shits - what with them being younger - our relationships are nowhere near that kind of strained. It just made sense to me while writing that Emily's personality, over-protecting tendencies and previous in-fic actions were the by-product of A Tragic Background™. Also, while unconscious and under great emotional turmoil, I thought it logical that one would fall prey to demons in the Fade... Hopefully it makes sense and no "a wild plot hole appears" situation will happen... :)

She was dreaming.

She knew because she was seeing things she couldn’t be seeing. 

Things that couldn’t be. 

Things that shouldn’t be.

Not here, at least.

So she knew she was safe, because everyone always said that you can’t get hurt in a dream. In a dream back home, anyways.

When she was a child, dreams had been whatever she wanted them to be. She laughed, played, danced, and when it was time for her to wake up she always closed her eyes, breathed deeply and smiled. She always woke with the same smile on her lips, the light of day filtering through her window. She was used to vivid dreams, had had them for as long as she could remember. It had been normal for her, up until her friends at school had said that remembering all your dreams wasn’t normal, that dreaming of faes and gods and myths and heroes and knowing you were dreaming was not normal either, and as such she wasn’t normal herself.

She hadn’t had a lot of friends after that. None, in fact.

And so the already isolated child drowned the painful reality out in even more stories of mythological heroes of another time defeating the woes inflicted on humans by the gods, little girls finding whole worlds hidden in wardrobes or down rabbit holes, of the boy who lived, of noble men and happy people defeating a great evil simply because of their pure hearts… Of a feral man that couldn’t be defeated. Of a blue box that was bigger on the inside. The characters on paper and on screen were becoming role models, then friends, filling her dreams with adventures and her days with reveries.

While her younger siblings were invited to birthdays and parties, she was spending her Saturdays with therapists upon therapists, her father growing more and more irate as they all had nothing to report but that she was fine, very mature, very well-adjusted for a child her age. She kept reading, and the more she read the more it seemed to put her parents out of their minds. It’s not normal for a child to act like this, their new mantra, repeated over and over until the fact had imprinted in her so deeply it was woven into her sense of self.

On the particularly bad weeks, they used to hide the books in the living room, locking the door for good mesure. She had to jump on the balcony and walk as soundlessly as she could to the end of it, climb through the previously carefully unlatched living room bay windows - she could always feel when they would do it, and often had some time to get ready for the storm - to retrieve them, acting like a thief. It left her feeling a mixture of happiness at being able to keep on reading, and disgust at herself for even having to think about these stratagems. On the good days, she could hide the books she was reading under her mattress to prevent her parents from locking them up, giving them books that she had already read. And on and on it had gone, for a few years.

When high school had rolled around, it had been like a slap in the face, or a rainstormafter a drought. She had finally been old enough, her parents had bought her a computer, for her studies they had said.

Her cousin gave her some old video games, telling her to play to her heart’s content. It was an open to a new world, new stories and new friends.

She kept reading, though. She kept dreaming, too.

New stories. Young girls discovering they weren’t made for the world they lived in. A boy who found out the myths were real. 

New stories, shaping her mind as the old ones had, taking her new directions.

New stories, new possibilities. New friends. New smiles.

And then one night she woke up with a start, a loud banging on their front door waking the siblings. A police officer, mumbling about cars and ditches…

And suddenly there no longer were therapists on Saturdays.

She was still silent, and she kept reading, but it wasn’t ‘odd’ anymore. It was **_a normal coping mechanism_** , the doctors had said. Give her time. She’ll come around.

An irate father convinced his daughter wasn’t normal and a mother lamenting her daughter’s lack of interest in ladylike pursuits could no longer dispute the truth of the claims, or drag her to the white offices and demand she be ‘fixed’.

She kept reading.

And then she had turned eighteen, had gone ‘home’ to the house her aunt used to own outside of town, to suitcases on the porch and her brothers waiting for her on the steps.Locks changed, doors and windows locked. Small mercies had made her an end of year baby, and she had graduated a little over two months before the date circled in red in the entryway calendar had creeped up on her and her brothers. They hadn’t known what the red circled date had truly meant.

Back to the empty home they had gone, back into the safety of the place they had grown up in. Thrown back into the memories, good and bad alike.

The bookcase was still there.

She was an adult now, she was old enough to oversee her brothers’ well being and provide, had said the lawyer they had seen after the ‘incident’. 

She took over the small family dinner and was put in charge of the trust funds the insurance money had created.

People she had known her whole life calling her **_ma’am_** and **_boss_**.

Setting up the water and electricity contracts, yard maintenance, paying bills and salaries. Dealing with the fact that she had become the head of their little family.

Her younger brother’s fight at school after one of his friend’s had said she was a screw up for not going to college.

The shady deals the older one got himself into for a while, before coming home with bruises, a split lip and a promise. 

The haunted looks in both of them when they had realized what she had sacrificed after the Oxford letter was found, long forgotten after being thrown in a kitchen drawer after they had come home from school early. Instead she got an online degree - with honors, mind you - that they had stuck to the fridge.

The road trips they took when they felt bad, or when it was too much, driving nowhere until they found a place to sleep that they liked. Tears on the drives out, smiles on the drives back.

She still read. The dreams were still as vivid as when she was 5.

And then one day she grew restless of the books - and of the now daily chatter and noises two teenagers on summer break was bound to bring about. She had gone to the attic in search of she couldn’t even remember what, and found the old stack of games. 

To the mall they had gone, the three of them, buying a new computer for the home office and home consoles - _because the old gamecube is having trouble starting up, Em, and my friends told me of this awesome new game on X-box, and…_

Money was spent - a lot of it, games, setups, a new TV, controllers, it was like Christmas in the middle of June - and by the evening they had everything hooked up or charged and takeout was ordered.

She still read. But she also rediscovered stories of heroes and soldiers, dragons and foxes, lost planets and armored blondes, a promised hero saving a realm taken over by forces of darkness… A plumber taking on an evil tortoise to save a princess.

And then, in the blink of an eye, they had left the nest.

The first one had gone to study biology, and the other one had followed to study law.  She was left with her until-now useless degree, a house too big for herself, and a struggling business ever since 2008. The trust fund money was gone. College isn’t cheap, and the least she could do was give them as much of a head start as she could…

She sold the dinner, and rented the house to a happy, expecting family. Split the money three ways with the boys. Left, with promises to visit and teary goodbyes. They had said they understood. She put her degree to use and found a nice little teaching job. Wiped the slate clean to start over.

She still read, and gamed, but now she wrote, too. Finally had the time to properly put the words down onto paper, and teaching had reignited the flame she had thought lost to the responsibilities she had shouldered.

They were still always together at Christmas, New Year, the Anniversary and birthdays. Made a point of it… Until finals had gotten in the way, and it was too far to travel just for a couple of days, and _I promise Em, I’ll be there next year_ … The baby, now a grown man with a degree… They had all gone to his graduation, proudly hugging him. And her scientist of a brother, a father twice over, his lovely wife round with their third, his old room painted bright blue and taken over by the twins. The big house, no longer empty.

Graduation had seemed to be a turning point, and they visited less and less. She took the time, but they were busy, or traveling, or had plans with their in laws… But they were always more than happy to let her take the kids every so often.

And then even that had stopped, and she had wondered why, and at first the apologies sounded more like excuses : they didn’t want to impose, didn’t want people to think they weren’t good parents… Until she had forced it out of them that, at her age, no husband and no kids was just too weird, and _Em, we’re… we’re a little concerned for you. It’s not normal…_

She wasn’t _normal_. Again. Words were said, words that couldn’t be taken back, and she had sat in her empty living room, in her empty house, and cried.

She dreamed a little less for a while. But that was to be expected, since she was sleeping a little less, too.

Her voicemails had stayed unanswered and her phone silent.

After a while, the dreams had come back. 

And then she had had that particularly bad day, and that particularly bad day had turned into a particularly bad week, and on and on, until the green fog had permeated the room and she had been falling and the rich laughter was the only thing she could hear or remember…

And now she was there, in her not-real situation, with her not-real friends, doing not-real things from a not-real story… And she couldn’t help but be happy. Happy in her impossible circumstances, surrounded by impossible people that had truly become her friends. Fictional characters that now laughed with her, ate with her, drank with her. Arag-tag, makeshift family they chose to be a part of, and had included her in.

She didn’t know for sure when the impossible had become home and her everyday, while home and the everyday the impossible… But, somewhere along the past weeks, it had.

That’s how she knew she was dreaming. 

Because the impossible wasn’t happening.

Because _they_ were there instead, like strangers wearing familiar faces, grabbing at her with gentle hands, the children running around calling her **_auntie Em_** , hugging her and telling her they loved her.

« Sit down ! »

« Auntie Em ! »

« Sit down, please ! My wife made grandma’s casserole, you’ll see, it’s just like hers ! »

« Sit, Emily, and won’t you try some of that Châteauneuf du Pape ? It goes wonderfully with the filet mignon. »

« We missed you so much auntie ! Tell us a story after dinner ? »

« Yeah, pwease, stowy ! »

She was tempted to take their hands, tempted to be led to the table, tempted to stay and enjoy the presence of people she hadn’t seen in ages, tempted to hug her nieces and nephews, sit on the plush living room carpet and tell them the stories they were asking for…

But she knew she was dreaming. It just wasn’t feeling right, and the smell of sulphur and brimestone, while artfully concealed, was nagging at her sense of smell, like a bad impression lingering in the back of your mind.

And before the desire demons’ could realized she knew, before their claws could dig into her in an attempt to make her stay and give in, she closed her eyes, breathed…

And woke up with tears rolling down her face.

* * *

_ Little Talks _ , Of Monsters and Men

Next :  **_All The World’s A Stage_ **


	15. All the World's A Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ! Sorry about the short chapter, and the delay ! I haven't been able to truly read, write or post for a bit... Lots happened.  
> On the plus side : finals are now over, lockdown is lifting, life is resuming, and I'm officially a masters' graduate ! Yay !  
> As always, hope you like it ^^

The breath she took when she woke up startled everyone, sending them into either fits of nervous laughter, tears or shocked silence.

They were there. All of them. Sporting various bruises and bandages, in a room that had been arranged as a sort of dormitory, and that looked suspiciously like she had imagined one from Tapster’s would look like…

They were there, they were safe. And so was she.

Well. Mostly.

As she tried sitting up, Aedan helping her with a gentle grasp on her forearm, she took the time to study their faces.

Leliana, with a bandage located on the abdomen, where the blade had pierced through her hardened leather armor, smiled gently at her from her wide and comfortable seat in the corner of the room, Natia hovering beside her like a mother hen… or a concerned lover. Emily’s mouth twisted in a little knowing smile, which brought a pink blush to the future spymaster’s cheeks. The redhead averted her eyes, brushing her fingers with Natia’s in an attempt at stopping the dwarf women from fretting.

« What… what happened ? »

« Well, dear, ’tis very simple. »

« Morrigan… » Emily almost whined

« You and Leliana were turned into skewers. »

« I know, Zev… it’s the what happened after that I’m looking for ? »

« You fell. We thought you were dead. » said Aedan, kneeling beside her bed to fluff her pillows. The man seemed to be restless.

« Yeah… I thought I was going to be, too… »

« Why… why would you do that ? » asked Lyna, obviously trying to control her voice, Zevran throwing a gentle smile her way.

« Oh… ehrm… It’s… complicated ? »

« Mmmmpf. »

« It is, Sten. It really is. »

« Surely you jest. None of us is… » started Wynne, a contrite expression marring her features.

« I would have done the same for any one of you, if it gives you an insight as to how much you matter for the happy future of Thedas to come to pass. »

A silence befell the room, throwing them into contemplative states, the high pitched whining of the mabaris - who were currently vying for her scratches from her only able hand - the only sound in the room.

« Well, it wouldn’t have needed to do it for me, would it ? » said Shale, the golem attempting to… joke ?

« Shale... I would’ve taken a boulder for you. »* replied Emily with a smile and a serious tone, the obscure movie reference lost on her companions, but throwing her in a fit of giggles.

Shale had looked at lost, and very confused and concerned, while the rest of the squishy members of their party were looking at her as if she she had grown a second head, obviously growing exponentially concerned by the second.

« I’m… I’m… so… so sorry… But… your… **_faces_** ! » managed to squeeze out Emily. « Oh, gods… it hurt to laugh… » she finished, managing to rein in the giggles.

« In all seriousness, Emily. You can’t… you can’t do this again. » said Duran in a tentative voice.

« I will. To save you guys, I will take a sword through the gut in a heartbeat. »

« Don’t say things like that ! » Alistair, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, exploded.

« Why not ? »

« Because ! Because you can’t… You can’t die on me ! On us ! What would happen if you did ? We wouldn’t… we wouldn’t know what’s going to pass ! We… we… »

« You are our friend, Em. It doesn’t matter if the Story say were are important, you are too. » said Daylen, seemingly finishing the train of thought the ex-almost-templar had been trying to express.

Emily fell back onto her pillows, sighing heavily.

« You don’t understand guys… »

« Then make us understand. »

Rising dramatically in a move Nosferatu and Murnau would be proud of, the young woman set on the task of explaining to her very stubborn companions why exactly she was, should anything happen, the most expandable of them all. After all, the books that literally held the 'VIP's for the Future of this World's Fate' names never bore a mention of her, or of any seer that existed, while these very people and their decisions created alternate timelines.

« I… You have a part to play. All of you. Not just in this part of the Story, not just for the Blight. In **_all_** of it. If we run into some other important people, I’d try to protect them the same way ! This… this is not my world. My world is gone. For all I know, I won’t be able to get back. The g… person… that brought me here, hasn’t manifested so far. And it’s fine. So if I can help you, and your world… I don’t have much to go back to, anyways… »

« You do ! You have us ! » piped Lyna up, angrily wiping a lone tear that had fallen from her eyes.

« We’re a family, Em… you can’t leave us. » added Neria.

« You can’t decide that your life has less value, either. » ended Kallian in a tone that would suffer no contradiction.

The elves had banded together, and made their case. Emily kept imagining them as Galadriel, Elrond and Thranduil… or rather, Galadriel, Arwen and Tauriel. 

Emily sighed again, trying to figure out a way to explain, to make them understand the importance of their lives, to make them understand that, while **_they_** were definitely not expandables… she was. Her death would - probably - not majorly impact the future events that would unfold in Thedas. If she died, Sten wouldn’t be tempted to tell the Qunari about her, and she wouldn’t run the risk of being hunted down by her friend once he would be made Arishok. If she died, Corypheus wouldn’t find out about her, and wouldn’t try to use her in the future-that-never-was timeline the Herald and Dorian would go through. If she died, she wouldn’t run the risk of Mythal and Fen’Harel possible fight for her. If she stayed alive though, there was a chance, big or small she didn’t know, but there was a chance all of this could come to pass… or even worse.

« Kal… If I… should anything happen to me, you guys will be fine. You’ll just have to figure it out on your own, that’s it. But if one of you dies… then it might literally be the end of the world. Either now, during the Blight, or in t… further down the line. »

They all frowned at that, trying to figure out what she meant.

« Either way, you’re not allowed to decide the value of your life. Or to throw it away so carelessly. » grumbled Natia

« Oh, so you’d rather I had left Leliana to be cut in half by the blow ? What a comforting thought. » said Emily with snark and rolling her eyes, clearly over the group’s insistence.

The dwarf women tensed, har hands flexing into fists before slowly relaxing again, like a cat ready to pounce would be flexing its claws. A pale hand found its way to her forearm, the tension instantly evacuated from the former casteless at the touch of her lover.

« Thank you, Emily » whispered the bard, smiling gently at the woman.

« Still… »

« I would do it again, and don’t try to pretend like you wouldn’t do the same » Emily said, her eyes going to every person in the room with her. « Yes, even you Morrigan, so don’t roll your eyes at me ! Witch of the Wilds you may be, but you’re also a friend, who I know can be kind and compassionate. Don’t think I didn’t notice your protective spells over the swords and axe wielding maniacs before you protect yourself when they run in the fray… »

The dark haired witch startled, frowned, before her lips turned into a pleasantly surprised smirk, and a slight tilt of her chin to acknowledge the truthfulness of the statement.

« Furthermore, ‘what’s doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Nietzche said that. And he’s a smart dude, so, there. I didn’t die, Leland didn’t die, we’re all fine ! Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know what happened while I was… resting. »

« What you said came to pass. » said Zevran, gesturing nonchalantly while sitting down on a plush couch.

« Loghain’s men were at the doors of Orzammar, and thankfully nothing came out of it. »

« Mh mh. »

« What ? What do you mean ‘nothing came out of it’ ? »

« No fight, nothing. They moved aside when they saw Leliana being carried by Shale and Alistair covered in your blood, with you in his arms. »

« But… that’s not… »

« ’Tis but yet another change it seems. »

Emily frowned, and looked at Morrigan seriously.

« Do you think… It could be… Because we sped through the last few weeks ? »

« I don’t know, dear. No one has every come to face such a… situation. »

« No one has developed a magic of time so far »

Emily snorted, and, blame if on the blood loss, the lack of food and the confusion at the many ‘changes’ she had been made aware of, the words were out of her mouth before she could think about their potential ramifications.

« Not for ten more years they won’t ».

Wynne blinked. Morrigan froze. Daylen’s eyes seemed to take a third of his face. Neria’s mouth hung open and stared at her absently, almost looking through her. The rest of their companions looked between the spell casters and Emily in both awe and horror, as the words, their meaning and their potential made their way into their brains and fully registered. Emily realized in sync with them, groaning and letting herself fall back onto her pillows in shame and self-punishment.

« Well… Shit. »

* * *

_As you Like It_ , **William Shakespeare**

* 'Dave... I would have taken a bullet for you', _**Dave**_ , Ivan Reitman, 1993

**Next : It is a Truth Universally Acknowledged...**


	16. It is a truth universally acknowledged…

It is a truth universally acknowledged that, when presented with a situation that is eerily reminiscent of _The Play That Goes Wrong_ , the law of Murphy will come into full effect.

The other word to describe what had gone down after Emily had inadvertently revealed the existence of people actively researching the possibility of Time magic, and had in the same sentence confirmed their future success was… a clusterfuck.

The mages had gone white as sheets, trying to wrap their minds around the possibility of such magic, its ramifications and consequences for the world, the Veil and as a whole everything that belonged to the real of magic… Wynne had gone silent while the others muttered under their breaths sometimes exchanging dark looks and half whispered words and fragments of sentences. 

The dwarves had crossed their arms, trying to look unfazed by Emily’s revelations as they tried to down play her words, and the gravity of such a magic being available, but the worry was visible in the slightly creased lines of their forehead and the smiles that didn’t quite reached their eyes. Duran had looked at Emily in a way she could only describe as worried, slightly nodding at her silent plea to help calm their companions down. 

Leliana and Zevran had huddled together, the future spymaster still sitting in the plush armchair and the former Crow perched on the arm, exchanging words, weighing the good and bad, the potential uses and, most importantly, the potential users. Names were thrown out between all the companions, all - even the ordinarily reluctant Morrigan - coming together to share information and pool in all the sources at their disposal to figure if they could single out the mages that could-would develop and use this form of magic. 

Shale had - for a golem - looked confused and worried as well, which was not encouraging at all.

Alistair, ever the optimist, had been babbling about how Templars would, without a doubt, be able to find the perpetrators and put an end to their schemes… provided they were anywhere but in Tevinter. His enthusiasm was short lived when Emily, eyes still closed, winced at the mention of the mages-led Empire. Stopping halfway through his sentence, he turned, saw her unmoving and a frown marring her features and… was immediately silenced, turning as white as the mages. 

Sten had grunted, merely muttering a ‘Goddamn Vints’ before taking his sword out and sharpening it, no doubt thinking of a way to contact the Qun to let them know of the future threat… Has he thought about the ways to find a Ben Hassrath, another matter he ought to think of presented itself. Would he reveal the provenance of the warning as well, if asked ? So far, the young woman had confused him to no end. She had demonstrated a willingness to understand - or at least accommodate - his culture and religion, while many had not. Had gone out of her way to return his sword, his soul, to him. She had knowledge he knew would benefit the Qun, insight into the future he was intimately convinced the Arishok would be happy to have. But something stirred him when he thought of her, bound and tortured during the re-education process… He didn’t know yet if he was willing to break her spirit and what made her **her** for the sake of the Qun, and that particular fact scared him more than he was willing to admit. 

And so, he sharpened his sword, in the futile hopes that a sharper weapon would lead to a sharper mind.

« And when that… when the time magic happens… what happens ? »

« This is… this is not a discussion I’d like to have… »

« Please. »

« Things… things get bad. For a while. But then, the he… a person, who you’ll meet in time, will be able to go back in time, erase the potential future and… restart the timeline where it diverged ? I don’t know a lot about it all, it’s just… Things will get bad. Really bad. End of the world bad. But, only for a short while… and it’s not going to be what happens for real. It’s a… different timeline. »

« How long ? »

« Two to three years. »

« And then ? »

« I… don’t know. »

« What do you mean ? »

« Apart from the… person, no person that traveled in time has any memories of anything that could have been. »

« Could have been ? »

« So it’s not real ? »

« It will be for you. For some time. And then it will be erased. »

« And we’ll have no memory of it ? »

« None. Though… I think, if you have nightmares after it… takes place… it could… residue ? I really don’t know guys, it’s just theories, they didn’t go into details, just the… trauma, and the willingness of the Inq… of some people, to do what’s necessary to literally save the world. »

All had taken an air of solemnity, one pondering over her running mind and filter-less mouth, some thinking hard and others pulling their hair out, trying to process the brunette’s words.

In the end, it had been a dwarven teenager, a stocky boy working as a runner for Tapsters he had explained, that had gotten them all out of their collective mood. He had knocked heavily on the massive wooden door with his steel-reinforced toe boot, which Shale had promptly - and uncharacteristically - opened. He almost stumbled into the room, the tray he was carrying larger and wider than he was and heavy with food. He barely caught himself before tripping, his eyes going wide at the sight of the golem, a little ‘yip’ sound escaping his throat. He spotted Duran, and the noise died in his throat, eyes going comically wider than they already were, barely manning to keep the tray balanced.

« Your… Your majes- »

« Your nothing, boy. I am a Warden now. You may call me Warden, or Duran if you wish. »

« My… my Lord, I couldn’t… »

« I am a Lord no longer. My brother stripped me of all my titles when he cast me out, did he not ? »

At his words, the boy turned a deep shade a crimson, but it was unclear if it was from embarrassment or outrage… Emily carefully filed his reaction in a corner of her mind.

« Yes, but… but… »

« I am just a… »

« Duran, will you stop ? The poor lad is only trying to do his job » muttered the young woman in a sigh, Natia nodding along in approval.

« My Lady, it is not… I am not… » he seemed to be struggling to express himself, trying to do so without offending one or the other.

« I am not a lady, either. What is your name ? »

« Mervaris, my la… ma’am. »

Emily smirked, and nodded.

« Hello, Mervaris. My name is Emily. You already know Duran, and the golem at the door is Shale. These people are our companions, some are Wardens, like Natia here, Kallian, Neria, Daylen, Lyna and Aedan. Our other companions are named Morrigan, Leliana, Zevran, Sten, Alistair and Wynne. »

The boy’s featured relaxed slightly, eyes going to each as they introduced themselves with a little gesture as they were being named.

« Thank you, ma’am. »

« You’re welcome. »

Mervaris then placed the filled tray onto the small table, the table completely disappearing under it. The smell was starting to fill the room, and several happy stomachs manifested themselves as the delicious fragrance of broiled meats, cheeses, and freshly baked bread awakened their appetites.

« I, ugh… Enjoy your luncheon… »

Mervaris turned, but stopped dead in his tracks when his stomach let out a loud growl that would put Alistair’s own to shame. And the ex-almost-templar looked impressed, too.

« Nonsense, you will eat with us. » declared Duran in a commanding tone

« Unless you have other duties ? » asked Kallian gently, ever caring.

« We don’t want to keep you from your chores, but stay if you're hungry, this is… a lot of food. » Neria said, looking at the amount of food and dishes in awe. While they usually had enough to eat, rations had started to take their tolls and a proper, home cooked meal was more than welcome.

« I… can stay… »

« Well then ! Let us eat ! »

The funny part about the whole situation is that, there wasn’t any furniture in the room - save for the armchair Leliana was occupying, and the bed Emily was lying on. All of them ended up on the floor, in a situation that reminded them of their meal at Redcliffe village after they managed to stop the undead’s invasion.

Lyna carefully handed Emily and Leliana plates, before sitting cross legged at the foot at the bed and eating her own supper.

Shale was watching them eat from her self-imposed position by the door. 

Though the while thing was comfortable and familiar, as they started digging in Emily couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.

A thought then hit home, in a Eureka moment Archimedes would be proud of.

« Hey guys… where are the mabaris ? »

« Oh ! We didn’t tell you ? »

« They’re at the kennels, downstairs. »

« Tapsters has kennels ? »

« They do ! I didn’t think they would, but they do ! » said Lyna escitedly, making the bed bounce a little. Emily was utterly perplexed.

« Why ? I mean… Duran, dwarves don’t have dogs… right ? »

« We do, actually. » 

« Mostly mutts, especially in Dust-town, good for guarding, not mabari’s, theses are too…big. Nobility tend to have small, long bodied dogs, perfect for hunting… »

« We have these too ! »

« I imagined… But the ladies at court are overly fond of little dogs… they are little things, always yapping and nipping at whoever’s trying to pet them, and always shaking for some reason… »

« Oh ! Just like in Orlais ! » exclaimed Leliana, « the little yippy dogs ! »

That gave Emily pause, as she pieced together the informations that had been revealed… And came to the only logical conclusion.

« You have freaking chihuahuas in Thedas ? »

« Chihuahuas ? »

« Chihuahuas. Devil’s spawns. Jealous and aggressive little shits that overcompensate their small sizes and shorty complex by just biting anyone that isn’t their master… And sometimes even them. »

« That sounds… surprisingly accurate. » blushed Aedan.

« Chihuahuas… » Mervaris shyly tried the word, carefully rolling the letters, his distaste for the animal it referred to evident on his face. 

« Chihuahuas… and you stuck our lovely, adorable giants in with theses little buggers in the kennels ? They’re going to eat them alive before long… »

« Nah, the man put them in separate ones. »

« Poor babies… locked downstairs… I bet they’d like a comfy carpet… with us… Daithi loves belly rubs by the fire. » Lyna sighed.

« We are not bringing the dogs into the room with us. » said Duran.

« But… I… »

« If you want to cuddle so bad, I would not object… Just saying. » said Zevran with a smirk, making the Dalish elf blush furiously as he rose from his spot on the ground, and moved to sit by the foot of the bed, on the floor, just in reach of Lyna’s hand. He almost started purring when her hand found its way into his hair, rubbing at the scalp in a soothing motion.

« There. Better than belly rubs. »

Mervaris looked at them in awe and confusion, trying to understand the interactions between these people that seemed so strange to him. They acted like they didn’t care for propriety or etiquette, yet carried themselves with an air of… majesty.

Duran observed the serving lad from his spot, a question on his lips he dared not voice in case he was wrong. Natia and Leliana attracted Alistair’s attention to the situation and their friend’s obvious dilemma, who in turn got Emily’s attention with a not-so-subtle chin movement towards the former prince.

« Duran. »

« Alistair ? »

« Are you alright ? »

« Yes, I am… It just… feels weird to be home, you know ? It’s familiar, but… »

« But everything is different. » finished Natia.

« The looks they gave me when we came through the doors… It was a mix of outrage, anger, hate… and pity. »

« I’m sure they were relived to see you again. Most of your people liked you, didn’t they ? »

« I… At one point, I thought they did. Now… with everything that happened, I’m not… too sure. »

« Nonsense. Even the casteless liked you well enough. I should know. You swayed many executions, and didn’t treat the ones you employed quite as bad as the rest of them nobles. The rest of the snotty ones must have cared for you, too. Would probably have backed you up for the crown if your shit brother hadn’t managed to cast you out and kill the other one. »

« What if… » started Mervaris, before stopping halfway through his sentence, and bowing his head down, as if waiting to be reprimanded for speaking out. 

« Go on, sweetie. » said Wynne in a gentle voice.

« I… I’m just a servant, I belong to the Servant Caste, but my mother… My mother is a smith, and she… She told me many a times that the Smith Caste was not happy with the way Bhelen and Harrowmount were trying to rule things. The Merchants and Artisans are especially unhappy with Harrowmount’s plans to… shut Orzammar close. But most of the Warriors are backing Bhelen, Harrowmount doesn't have many in his house... though he does have lots of support from the other houses. But Bhelen has the support of the Legion of the Dead... I think. Everyone is… divided. With the Noble Caste trying to pick sides, and the Sheperate trying to maintain a form of integrity and neutrality through the conflict it… No one’s really sure who they should follow. At… At least, that’s what my mother said. » The young boy finished, redder than a tomato, but had provided a deep insight into the state of affairs in Orzammar.

Emily had known from the game that neither Bhelen nor Harrowmount were the ideal choices. Both were flawed in different ways, and none were truly suited to the throne. And while the in-game Orzammar had been portrayed as actively taking sides for one or the other, Mervaris has just revealed the 'real' situation was far from the game's, and that none of the candidate's to the throne were truly supported. Either too ambitious, too greedy, too fearful, or too ensconced in the Old Ways… And there had been no alternative for either of them. 

Until now.

Maybe the divergences from the Story were a good thing, after all.

The cogs were turning, and the words everyone wished to spoke were finally uttered by Natia.

« Do you think… Do you think there might be some, willing to support their former prince ? »

« There are. Bhelen’s accusations and the expediting of the sentence was a little too… fortuitous for many to be satisfied by it. Most question Bhelen and accuse him of kinslaying behind closed doors. There are some who… there are **_many_** who support Harrowmount only because he opposes him. »

« So, if we were to present them with another choice, from the house of Aeducan… » started Leliana

« Harrowmount would lose half his supporters, or more, and so would Bhelen. »

Duran, humbled by Mervaris words, had taken on a reflective mood. And, while he had only pondered on the incredible fact that people would be willing to place their faith in him, in **_his_** rule, should he but wish it... betraying his brother still seemed an impossible feat to accomplish.

« Duran ? »

« Hm ? »

« How would you like to be king ? »

* * *

_**Pride and Prejudice**_ , Jane Austen

_**Next : "Cette confiance là perd des trônes"** _


	17. Cette confiance là perd des trônes

« What the fuck ? »

« Oh… was that what you meant before ? »

« What do you mean ? »

« What ??? »

« Alistair and Duran kings… hiding anything else in your sleeve ? »

« Well, technically we **_could_** put Natia on the throne, but I don’t think that would go over too well with the Assembly… old pricks. »

« Natia on the… »

« I’m casteless, it’s never gonna happen. »

« No. It is not. Because of the aforementioned old pricks. Something far better will, though… In time. »

« And you’re not going to tell us ? »

« No. As a matter of fact, I won’t. It is a good thing, I’ll only say this, and I want to keep it a surprise for when it happens. I want your joy to be... genuine. »

« Grmpf. Fine. »

« Anything else ? »

« You’ll see. »

Mervaris looked confused at the discussion. Morrigan narrowed her eyes at the lad, before speaking in a glacial tone that demanded to be obeyed and conveyed danger should it not be.

« You will not breathe a word of this to anyone. »

« Of… of course. »

« We could always… » suggested Zevran, seemingly unconvinced and making a gesture with his hands to indicate he would be ready to… dispose of the teenager should it be required.

« No ! » protested Natia.

« Absolutely not ! » reinforced Daylen.

« Crush it, make it will not speak to anyone… »

« The idea has its merits… » pondered Morrigan, which earned her dark looks from both Leliana and Wynne, while Neria looked positively horrified at the mere possibility of them having to kill someone who had been nothing but helpful to them. 

« We are not killing a boy to protect a secret that is not one. We are not Loghain, or Anora, or Bhelen, or Flemeth. We don’t… we don’t kill needlessly. »

« **_You_** don’t. »

« And you don’t either. » Emily narrowed her eyes at Sten, daring him to keep going. « None of you do. »

« How can you be so sure ? »

« Because I am. And because if you were, the mabaris would not have imprinted on you. »

« They only imprinted on four of us. »

« You think they would be friendly towards assholes ? »

« They don’t like me. »

« That’s because they saw you turn into a giant spider and eat bandits. And they still eat from your hand. »

« … Touché. »

« And point to me. »

They all looked at each other, settling the matter silently in seconds.

« Mervaris ? » asked Netia

« Yes ? » squeaked the lad.

« Are you able to make your way into Dust Town ? »

« Hm… yes ? »

« Good. I will write a letter, and you will take it to the house at the far end of the slum. Drop it there, and high tail the Ancestors out of here after. »

« O… Okay ? »

« Good lad. »

Natia sat next to the armchair, and, producing a small inkwell, quill and parchment from somewhere under the piece of furniture, started crafting a message in runes.

« I suppose I ought to… do the same, for the Diamond Quarters… »

« It would be best, Duran. » said Aedan, clapping the former prince on the shoulder.

« Let them know you are back. » agreed Wynne.

« As if they didn’t already know… They’re probably already plotting… »

« You don’t have to beg or their support. There is still the Proving, you know. They still deny Castless, but we, as Wardens and Co, can register in the tournament. Even Natia » voiced Emily out loud.

« We could announce your grand return and your brother’s treachery in one go. » acquiesced Leliana, nodding along.

« You’d show you have the support of the casteless, the surfacers AND you’d rally people behind the meaning of your victory. »

« We win ? »

« You do. Completely annihilate your opponents. You can even bring the dogs ! »

« That… This is… » blabbered Duran, thinking about it.

« Dangerous ? Mad ? Crazy ? All of these ? » offered Alistair, clearly not on board with the plan.

« Are you out of your minds ? Leliana and Emily can’t defend themselves ! What if Bhelen and Harrowmount send assassins after us ! » Said Kallian, highlighting the danger they were about to run headfirst into.

« They won’t. » shrugged Natia.

« How do you know ? »

« Because to do so would mean they see us as a threat… »

« And if they fail, it means they feared us enough to not be comfortable in their positions. It will not be in their favour... »

« And with a Crow on your side, they better make sure they succeed… otherwise… »

« Otherwise Duran will be the **_only_** one vying for the crown. » said Morrigan in an ominous but sweet tone.

« They could still ask to put Branka on the throne. » said Mervaris.

« She’s dead. She took all her house and went to the Deep Roads years ago. »

« She’s… not actually dead just yet ? »

Heads turned towards Emily.

« No one can survive in the Deep Roads for so long. » said Alistair matter of factly.

« House Branka is lost. There is no way she is still alive ! »

« I’m telling you. She is alive. Granted, she’s the only one left, and she’s sort of insane, but she’s alive. »

« How do you… » started Mervaris, before being interrupted by Shale.

« It better not ask, or we’d have to crush it. »

The boy gulped, and stayed silent.

« Did she find the anvil ? »

« She is close. »

« You… know where the anvil is ? »

« Theoretically, yes. »

« Where ?? »

« The anvil ? What anvil ? »

« The Anvil of the Void. She was obsessed with it. She became… she became Gollum, actually… » The realization struck Emily, making her smile at the resemblance in the characters, but only bringing more confusion to the rest of the party. She giggled while picturing Branka, lovingly caressing the Anvil and calling it ‘my precious’…

« Gollum ? »

« What’s a Gollum ? »

« Is it someone else from the Story ? »

« What ? No ! No, he’s someone from a book… From another Story entirely. No need to worry about him, he doesn’t exist in Thedas. »

« So she is obsessed with an object, and you have a word for it ? »

« No, it’s not… it’s complicated, Sten. »

« What does this anvil do ? »

« It makes golems. » answered Duran grimly.

« Golems… like me ? »

« Yes, Shale, like you. »

« How… do you make golems ? Aren’t they created by magic ? »

« No, they’re not. » said Daylen. « We’d know if we could do that… right ? » he asked to Wynne, who only raised her shoulder in the universal ‘I don’t know’ gesture.

« No, well, actually, yes, it is magic, but not magic magic, they…The anvil is more like an object infused with lyrium and an enchantment of great power… It is a super powerful Enchantment, which is magic. But magic has a price, and requires balance, especially when a non-mage uses magic. To make a golem, you have to take a soul and a body to be shaped into stone… it’s a gruesome process.»

« Take a soul… » reflected Zervan.

« You mean… » started Wynne, looking horrified.

« I don’t understand. » said Neria, though her eyes said she started to.

« Yes. » answered Emily to Wynne.

« What is it saying ? »

« Shale… I can’t explain properly. And I can’t give you your memories back. Only Caridin can, and only he has the answers you’re searching for. »

« Caridin is ALIVE ? »

Duran and Natia’s thoughts were sent spiraling, their mouths opening and closing and eyes going wide, while an array of different emotions flashed on their faces.

« So this Caridin has the answers to Shale’s past ? »

« Yes. »

« Then we find him » stated Kallian, determined.

« It would… help me to find answers ? »

« I would. We all would. » answered the elven woman, looking at their stone golem friend with a soft and gentle look.

Silence settled like a heavy blanket over the group, which allowed Emily to get back on track.

« In the Story, you find Branka, learn of the process of making golems while also learning of the decisions she made to get as far as she did down the Deep Roads… This will be unsettling and stomach churning. I would recommend to leave the women here, but… It is important all of you learn of the danger. Wardens and others alike, so that you can… So that you can spread awareness, and offer people a choice if it comes down to it. »

« This isn’t ominous at all, is it ? »

« Can you at least give us an inkling of what’s to come ? »

« I can’t… I won’t, tell you. If you know… You might not want to find her or the Anvil, and we need both to find have Shale’s memories restored and put Duran on the throne, without any possible challenge to his status and claim. »

« So… you’re planning a proper coup then ? » said Mervaris in a tiny voice.

« Seems we are. » nodded Kallian gravely.

« That’s… that’s great ! »

They all smiled at the boy’s reaction, and his own inclusion in their little scheming. It made Emily’s heart hurt, to think he could possibly be put in harm’s way if his involvement was discovered, but she ought to have thought of his before asking him anything incriminating… She just hoped she wouldn’t pay for it later.

« So what’s the plan, guys ? » she asked.

« Well, step one, we present ourselves before the Assembly. » said Duran. « See if we can convince them to help us with the treaties. »

« Then, if they don’t, which they won’t, we enroll in the Proving ! » grinned Natia. She could finally officially fight and be recognized as the amazing and terrifying warrior she was, andher delight at the opportunity showed.

« We kick our opponents’ asses, and declare Duran’s return. » said Lyna with a ten-thousands watts smile.

« Along with the false accusation, mistrial, and claim to the throne. » pointed Zevran out.

« While the chosen team fights in the Proving, the rest of us will be running around Orzammar to gather information and support. See if anyone needs anything… and take the general mood on the situation. » stated Leliana.

« I can gather dwarves from different houses and… spread the word ? » added Mervaris tentatively.

« Hm hm, that’s good. »

« Then we reconvey by the Proving grounds once the matches are won, and present ourselves to the Sheperate. Gather a paper trail to prove my traitorous brother’s schemings. » continued Duran.

« After healing. » interjected Wynne, ever the mother hen.

« After healing. Of course. » Morrigan rolled her eyes at the old circle mage, eliciting a smile from Aedan.

« Once we have the paperwork, we find both Bhelen and Harrowmount, and expose our plans to them. » said Duran.

« We what now ? » Daylen did a double take.

« We expose our plan to them. » repeated Duran.

« Why ? Won’t that be… counter-productive ? » asked Kallian.

« It’s a power play. » grunter Sten.

« It is. We show them we are not afraid, and that we will not back down. »

« They wouldn’t dare threaten you with Wardens by your side, right ? Especially with the treaty and the armor. Too risky. » stated Alistair.

« Exactly. »

« Attacking one of us means risking losing the help of Wardens in the event of a Blight… and showing up at their doorsteps after announcing Duran’s claim to the throne means they would be logical suspects if anything happened… Smart. » approved Aedan with a nod.

« Well, I **_was_** a prince… » snorted Duran in a playful tone.

« Making the enemy capitulate without shedding blood… I’ll miss **_The Art of War_** … » mumbled Emily under her breath, rendering her words inaudible.

« Can I crush any thing that try to harm it ? » asked Shale, almost timidly.

« Feel free to crush anyone coming too close or drawing weapons on us. »

The golem smiled, and started to happily hum a little tune about the joy of bone crushing and the delightful little squishy sounds flesh made when compressed into jelly… making Lyna and Neria slightly uncomfortable - and a little green.

« So who’s gonna be doing what ? Who’s in the Proving ? »

« I’ll have to fight, obviously… but I was thinking about Natia, Kallian and Morrigan ? »

« All the races united with you, along with a casteless… sounds like a good plan »

« Are you bringing anyone as reinforcements ? »

« Daylen and Zevran… if you’ll accept ? »

« Of course ! »

« I never shy away from a fight, my friend. » smirked the Antivan assassin.

« So that leaves…

« Wynne, Neria, Alistair, Shale, and Lyna will go into town. »

« What about Sten ? »

« He stays here, with you and Leliana. »

« I’m sorry, I must have misheard you… I’m staying where now ? »

« Here. In this bed. We’ll move Leliana’s here as well, and Sten will guard you both. »

« We don’t need a babysitter. » pouted Leliana.

« No, but you’ll need someone able to fight if my power-hungry brother decides to send someone after you… given that you were seen to be a valued friend and companion of mine, I doubt he would pass the opportunity to at least send someone to investigate our rooms while we are absent… »

« And the dogs ? Are you really going to leave the pups in the kennels all day long ? »

« No, they’re coming with us. » said Daylen.

« Of course… »

« Hey, no one forced you to run into a sword you know. » joked Alistair.

« That is so not funny. »

« Actually, it is. »

After a small staring contest, Emily relented.

« Fine. We stay here. »

« She finally sees sense ! »

« But you be careful, you hear me ? If anything happens outside of the Proving, I’ll… I’ll stick a bolt where the sun don’t shine. »

Alistair mock saluted the brunette, their little group chuckling and the conversation flowing towards more pleasant topics, Mervaris animatingly asking questions about their travels, being a Warden, or having magical abilities.

After-all, too much confidence had been the downfall of many a crown wearer.

* * *

Les Misérables, Victor Hugo

_**Next : The Wise Man Knows Himself to Be a Fool** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope it keeps you entertained ^^


	18. The wise man knows himself to be a fool

The evening was spent going over fighting strategies and potential ennemies, with Emily giving the Proving team some knowledge of their opponents and the ways they could pressure them into either fighting or yielding. They would not see their efforts to gain the good-will of the people undone by claims of blackmail, either from their part or any other.

And so, on the morning, they all said their goodbyes, and went on their separate tasks, leaving behind their Chantry and would-be Seer companions.

Waiting was… excruciating.

Granted, Leliana and Emily had Sten and Mervaris to keep them company, the boy having been hired as the two women’s butler for the duration of their mandatory bed-rest. But the Qunari was not being any more volubile than usual and even with the teenager’s good temper and easy-going nature, literally lying in contemplative wait was nerve-wracking.

Was if something went wrong ? A blow to the head, Wynne being a second too late in casting her healing or protective spells, and they could lose a friend… Leliana didn’t seem too worried, which was - in its own measure - a reassuring thing for the other young woman. They didn’t egg each other on down the path of panic and worry, which was always a good thing for heart rates and anxiety levels.

Soon enough, however, Mervaris came to the women’s room, breathless from having run up the stairs, and a smile so wide it threatened to cleave his face in half. Sten had dropped a hand to his sword’s hilt as the dwarf entered the room, grunting noncommittally when he recognized him as no threat to them.

News had come to Tapsters from the Proving Grounds, spectators telling their tales around a pint of ale. A new team of fighters, hailing the banner of the disgraced Aeducan prince, had entered the tournament ! Led by none other than Duran himself, the group was composed of elves, humans, and, shockingly, even a castless woman ! The very same that had been conscripted into the Wardens for fighting without an authorization ! The rumor mill was going hard and well, spinning the truth to fit the grander narrative that both contestant for the crown wanted. A disgraced prince became a prince hell bent on revenge for the apparent murder of his father and elder brother, either coming to hail Harrowmount for his integrity and destroy Bhelen, or save the Aeducan benjamin from the evil clutches of Lord Harrowmount…

Mervaris was having much fun while recounting the stories and rumors he had heard, to the great enjoyment of the archers resting in the common room.

Little by little, their companions made their way back to Tapsters, the fighters coming back first, minus Duran, Natia and Aedan, who had gone to the Shaperate to gather knowledge about the necessary papers they would have to produce or find traces of to free Duran of the false charges Bhelen had against him. 

Tales of the fight were happily told by the victors, who were sat by Emily and Leliana's beds or re-enacting the parts they were most proud of, for the sake of accurate story telling they had said.

The group from the market had come in at different time, each carrying news from different castes or parts of Orzammar. Overall, they had no problem convincing the non-royal inhabitants of Orzammar that the civil war that was brewing between Harromount and Bhelen should be a sign of both dwarves’s inability to rally the kingdom between one or the other, each having a claim to the throne that was suspicious : the dying words of the king, heard by none but the one claiming the deceased monarch favored him over his own true-born son, who was next in line only because his elder brother had met his end in obscure circumstances, the other accused of the deed and exiled before he could defend himself… Now, the wronged but rightful heir to the throne returned, bent on justice for himself, his brother and father, and, Ancestors clearly willing - as he had won the Proving with his companions - would bring back prosperity to the dwarves of Orzammar.

The tale was quite enthralling, even for the one who had woven it themselves, and it was no wonder most of the ‘common’ population of Orzammar had rallied behind the returned Prince… Even with the casteless’s support.

Natia had been capital in gaining her fellow caste aways to their cause : Duran’s assurance that he would, indeed, do everything in his power to meliorate their situation, and maybe even reform the casteless system, had been all the destitute population of Orzammar had needed to hear to swear their allegiance to the Dwarf Warden.

Mervaris had, too, used his knowledge and contacts to suscite interest from both the Servant and the Smith’s Caste, effectively rallying the majority of the people to Duran.

With the casteless, the merchants, the servants, and the smiths, the nobles shifting their voices to Duran and the warriors declaring they would fight for the would be Warden-king rather than a king who had never even seen a dark spawn…

They were well on their way to having Duran sitting on his father’s throne.

The dwarf, along Aedan and Natia, was the last to come back to the inn.

And they hadn’t come back alone : a familiar face, that Emily thought she wouldn’t see until later in their journey, appeared after Aedan found his place beside Morrigan.

Excited to no end from seeing the one she considered a key piece in the future and the survival of the world she had been thrown into, Emily’s face lit up with a smile and welcomed the dwarves girl with open arms, under her friends’ amused and exasperated looks.

« Hi ! Oh gods, I can’t believe I get to meet you ! How are you ? Is your father aware you came with them ? Did you ask them about the surface yet ? »

Emily turned to Aedan and Duran, who were looking at her with eyes wide as saucers.

« You didn’t try to dissuade her from going, did you ? She will find a way, eventually, and I’d much rather we bring her to the Circle rather than having her escape Orzammar in the dead of night and make the journey alone and on foot… »

« Who… are you ? »

« I’m Emily, darling. »

« Oh. Yes, they did say you might do… that. »

« I’m glad. You still want to study magic ? »

« Yes ! »

« Good… Wait, why are you here ? »

Dagna took a step back, hurt marring her features for a brief second.

« No ! No, not like that, please, don’t think I… ugh… I mean, usually you wait with your father until they either bring you to the Circle or tell you to stay home, so… »

« They tell me to stay home ? »

« Or bring you to the Circle, which is… probably not the best for you right now, given its state of overall destruction, butI think… I think you’d be good for the place. Even when you leave, it’s not… it’s not the worst it can become, after. »

« Oh… that’s not ominous at all… »

Emily smiled, and put a reassuring hand on Dagna’s shoulder.

« You are going to do so many amazing things. The stuff you’re going to create… You’re going to save Thedas. »

« I am ? »

« Yep. »

Emily and Dagna were lost in their little conversation, oblivious to the rest of the room and the numerous pairs of eyes that were looking at the two of them in slight concern and awe.

« Mind sharing ? » asked Zevran, breaking the spell.

Emily shook her head.

« Nh Nh. That’s for you to find out… The stuff is revolutionary. You’re going to love it. »

« If you say so… » muttered Kallian under her breath, crossing her arms on her chest.

Uncaring of the companions’ and the Wardens’ feelings on this new piece of information she had given them, Emily and Dagna were lost in their own little world for a bit, before dragging Daylen, Neria, a reluctant Wynne and an amused Morrigan into their discussion with theories about magic and the inner workings of enchantments and lyrium…

* * *

_“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”  
_ As You Like It , William Shakespeare

Next :  **What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?**


	19. What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?

The evening had devolved into a night of drinking and happiness.

The previous day had ended with a promise from Dagna to come visit, Mervaris walking the future Arcanist back to her father’s shop to avoid any unwanted situation befalling her. They had all promptly gone to bed after that, the task of gathering proof and witnesses to support Duran’s claims and version of event starting to appear as a tedious task, that would require them all at the outmost of their abilities to jump through the proverbial hoops this would present.

They had left early, this time taking Sten with them and leaving Lyna with her friends. Mervaris and Dagna had been more than happy to keep the women company, talking animatedly about magic, the Chant, food, life at the Circle, life in Orzammar, life as a Dalish… the afternoon had passed at an alarming speed, 

Natia had been victorious in her paper trail hunt, while alerting Jarvia of both Bhelen and Harrowmount’s intentions towards her and her imminent death should she keep up her more… distasteful activities. The woman was won to their cause when Natia promised an Orzammar where the Carta would not need to exist in order to feed the casteless population, and swore her men to them for any endeavor In Dust Town. A few men involved with the ambush on Trian and Duran had also accepted to testify in the Sheperate to attest to the nature and circumstances of the Crowned Prince’s death…

Aedan and Morrigan had found the counterfeit bills and receipts Vartag had wanted to plant to undermine Harrowmount, alerting the Sheperate to Bhelen’s practices, while Duran, Alistair, Kallian, Daylen and Neria had managed to find Lord Dace and inform him of Harrowmount’s supposed betrayal… And bring him back to his daughter in one piece.

Duran’s return to the Sheperate with Lord Dace to testify had also yielded unexpected boons : while the former noble had walked the halls and alleys of the giant library, a small package had fallen from the higher shelves, almost right in front of him. Inside the carefully wrapped cloth, he had found a dozen bills and promises made to diverse dwarven houses, promising the wealth and land… should they support Bhelen instead of Trian as King. Dated to before the deaht of his brother, Duran had all the proofs he needed to utterly destroy his brother’s claim, regain his honor and name, and claim his righteous position as King of Orzammar.

Naturally, they had decided to celebrate.

Leliana and Emily had felt a lot better, and had managed to join the other in the common rooms, everyone sitting around tables and in chairs covered in Tapsters’ crest.

The meats were eaten, the ale was flowing…  And, with alcohol, came loose tongues.

Emily had, jokingly, said that, with so many friends becoming kings, Duran ought to be called « King Under Mountain » while Alistair could be called « King of the Dog Lords »…

Duran had agreed to the nickname once he was king, Emily unable to contain the snickers and the mirth at the dwarf’ use of another fictional dwarf’s title… 

« King Under the Mountain… Duran, Thorin… it even sounds the same ! I mean, I love the idea of a Sereda Aeducan on the throne of Orzammar, but since we have Duran instead of his female counterpart… It’s the perfect coincidence ! And if the shoe fits… ! Isn’t that exciting ? »

« Sereda ? »

« Female counterpart ? »

« What do you mean ? »

« Sereda… that… that was what my mother would have named me, had I been a female. »

« Yes, it is. »

« But… how ? »

Emily shrugged.

« I told you. The story changes. »

« So… do all of us have… counterparts ? » asked Alistair

« No, not… not the companions. I told you, you are constants. You, Morrigan, Wynne, Zevran, Leliana, Sten, Shale and our future addition are all who you are… always. »

« Oh… that’s… okay then. »

« Does that mean… I mean, could I have been… could I have… »

« Only the gender changes, darling. The rest of your stories… they stay the same. »

« So… I didn’t… »

« No, honey. Being a man wouldn’t have changed what happened to you that day. »

« What would have… what would have changed ? If we were the opposite ? »

« Well… You were still supposed to get married that day, and your fiancée would have been taken instead. Aedan would have been Elissa, and if she had fancied Alistair, she could have been Queen of Ferelden. »

« Me and Alistair ? »

Both men looked at each other in confusion and horror, as if seeing each other for the first time… while Morrigan looked to both with an - almost - dreamy look. Naughty little Witch of the Wilds… Isabela would love this.

« Hm hm… It was my favorite path, actually. »

« Queen ? » asked Aedan, eyes still wide and glancing furtively and Alistair, trying to reconcile the thoughts.

« Queen. And Warden Commander at the same time. Badass woman, she was… »

« But… but… »

« I know, I know, this is a lot to take in… »

« And, hum… » started Daylen, curious to know.

« You would have been called Solona, and… Do you remember the blond templar, the one at your Harrowing ? Cullen ? »

« Yes ? »

« He would have had a crush on you. A huge crush on you… If you had been Solona, the demons would have tortured him with her image back in the Tower. »

« Oh… »

« And not… not… » started Neria, distressed at the thought of what a Templar crushing on a Mage might mean… and her panic didn’t indicate it would be a rosy situation. If she had been the one being harrowed, at his mercy… She didn’t seem to like this possibility at all.

« I don’t know if he… you didn’t go through your Harrowing, right ? »

« No, not yet… Not for a few months. »

« Then… I don’t know. He might… he might have seen you… if not Solona, then you… But… In the Story, a mage of your age opted for Tranquility to avoid the Harrowing. It might have been the one the Story didn’t choose as **_the One_** , you know ? If the mage is male, then… He’s not… but I don’t think he’d… not a tranquil… but I think… It’s… Damn it. It’s just theory… So I don’t think… But I don’t know. I’d… need to ask him. » Stuttered Emily, pondering on the what ifs and maybes the Story hadn’t covered, the things she thought Cullen capable of doing and the things she knew he was about to do… the man had grown between all games, but the story had gaps, that Emily was growing more and more uncomfortable with. What had he done between being the sweet, hopeful and naive boy, then the jaded and scared templar, to finally ending up becoming the caring, determined but regretful Commander ? What terrible deeds had happened away from the screens and not made their way into the storyline ? Here, the particulars had rendered many a thing she thought she knew about these people into mere probabilities… which was jarring. It put everything in a new light, forced her to reconsider and re-evaluate. It sent her spiraling, her mind going a thousand miles a minutes with the possibilities.

« And what, you think he’d just answer you and tell you the truth ? » snorted Morrigan

What about the Witch of the Wild ? No one had known what had happened between her disappearance and her appointment at Celene’s court… Would she have Kieran ? Would Aedan follow her or betray her ? Would the soul of the old blighted god be trapped in the body of their child ? Would her mother bound her through the Well ?

« You’re too optimistic. »came a grunting.

Would Sten become the Arishok ? Would he be the one to set the events of **_Trespasser_** into motion… Or would the Viddasala truly acting out of turn ? His fate was unknown, had he died before any of the events of Inquisition even taken place ?

« Ever the hopeful. » agreed Duran.

With him on the throne, would the efforts of the Inquisition be bolstered by dwarven forces ? Would he take part in the Exalted Council ? Could the Dread Wolf be defeated with the dwarves by the Inquisitor’ side ?

« It might be dangerous. » Interjected Lyna.

Would the Dalish help ? Would Lyna survive if she were to to join her clan in Kirkwall ? Or would she die alongside them after Keeper Marethari’s sacrifice ? Could Emily stand the thought of her friend dying at the hands of Hawke and their little group ?

« When is it not ? »

Would Zevran be killed by Hawke ? Or fight alongside them in the battle against Meredith ? Could she make it to Kirkwall and fight with them, protect him, protect _them_ ?

« He seemed particularly shaken. He might not be able or… willing, to listen or answer. » said Alistair.

Ferelden would help… But would he, as king, manage to shrug his ‘uncles’ influence in the long run ? When the war would break, would he offer the rebel mages an alternative and protection from the Tevinter Imperium, if she could resolve to ask it of him ? Could she hide the fact she knew his mother from him ? Or would she reveal his parentage to the future king ?

« But… if she can help, surely she should ? »

The Nightingale would become paramount to the Inquisition’s success… But would she forgive her for not telling her of Divine Justinia’s death ? Would she send spies after her, have her brought to the Hands of the Divine bound in chains to have the satisfaction of putting a dagger through her in retribution ? She wouldn’t put it past a hardened Leliana, and with Justinia’s future demands and missions… she truly feared for her friend’s future.

« I think she would anyway, probable danger notwithstanding. » groaned Aedan.

With Fergus alive to rule Highever, would he become the Warden Commander ? Would he join Morrigan and stay with her, or return after some years ? Would he die a gruesome death at the hands of darkspawns or find a cure to the blight that the Warden bore ?

« If he fears mages… he could grow to hate them, and that… that isn’t… » managed Daylen, wringing his hands together in worry.

Would he and Neria be safe after the Archdemon was defeated ? Or would they perish before that ?

Would one of them, one of her friends, ultimately fall at Fort Drakon ? With the changes that had happened… Would all of them ?

« It’s important. »

Her words gave them pause, and Leliana narrowed her eyes at her.

« The Story. »

« Yes. He isn’t… he has the potential to be so much more than just a scared man. »

« Your faith in people you haven’t met is… unsettling. »

« ’Tis childlike to only see the best in people. »

« I know. I know everyone has flaws, but… everyone has the potential to be great. They either make the choice to not be, or are driven to insanity and then become BBEGs, or actually have really good reasons to do what they do, but… »

« BBEG ? »

« Big Bad Evil Guy. It’s what we’d call the Archdemon, or… the magisters who entered the Black City. »

« And there are many ? »

« Depending on what your views are, yes. But nothing is ever black and white. What you might consider ‘Evil’, some might see as ‘Good’, and vice versa. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. »

« Hell ? »

This conversation was starting to get rather long, and explaining every single idiom and turn of phrase, was starting to be a little bothersome for Emily.

« That would be your Void, I suppose. The place you supposedly go when you die if you’ve been ‘bad’ in the eyes of the Chantry. »

« Supposedly ? »

Aaaaaaand that was an open door onto the delightful world of controversial yet true statements. She really had walked into this one headfirst, hadn’t she ? Emily sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She wasn’t ready to have that conversation now, and she wasn’t sure the others were ready to listen either.

« Supposedly. There isn’t… religion isn’t to help people be better. They were created, and kept, and transformed to suit the needs of the elite, which would mainly be keeping the people on a tight leash in fear of divine retribution. They… lie, and manipulate, and destroy lives simply to keep themselves in a position of power. They couldn’t care less about the people, and when they do it’s usually heavily documented to provoke show of support and recognition. Gain influence, sway over the little people. »

« The Chantry must have their reasons. » said Wynne.

« All that… that’s not true ! It can’t be ! » stated Leliana, before Emily’s temper snapped.

« If the Chantry really cared about the people, do you think they would force a deadly drug on the Templars ? Leash them to a drug that slowly destroys their minds, until they are nothing but addled men and women, no one making it past 50 years old ? Or lock the mages away ? Use Tranquility ? Why isn’t the Chantry taking in refugees in Val Royaux during the Blight ? Help them rebuild ? The Mothers certainly do not forget to ask the people for the dimes, why aren’t they helping instead of fattening themselves on the hard earned money of the people ? »

« It’s not that easy, the Blight is a threat to everyone… »

« Yet the ones who die the most are civilians ! Where is the help from the Divine ? From the Tempars ? She calls exalted marches on Elves, Mages, sends her lyrium addicted dogs to fight under threat of being cut from their drug supply, to gain territories, to erase History that doesn’t comply with their versions, control access to knowledge of magic, literally preaching ethnic cleansing and genocide as necessary for the greater good of Thedas, but why isn’t she helping when the real threat is at her doorsteps ? Breeding resentment and fear, that’s all they’ve been doing ! They erased Shartan’s deeds, Andraste’s Champion, her friend and an elf, from the Sacred Texts, why ? They erased the fact that Inquisitor American was an elf, **AND** a mage, why ? They authorize, and encourage, the purging of alienages, why ? Everything they do, everything they say is contradictory. You can’t preach that you work and stand for the good of the people, when all you do is oppress, hunt down and rewrite ! Andraste fought alongside the elves and was Alamarri, and yet the Chantry did nothing but steal, belittle, and look down on these people, why ? They let their own prophet’s cultures disappear, why ? They refuse to educate the poor and the elves, why ? The Avvar are considered mindless barbarians, why ? The Dalish are systematically rejected, but why ? Because the Chantry, and the crowns, enforce segregation and racism. So what, if you’re not human, you’re not good enough ? You’re not worth it ? Not worth being accepted, but yet if you refuse the Chant of Light you’re a heretic and you have to be executed ? Why refuse Kossith, Dwarves and Elves into the Chantry service but say any other form of religion is wrong ? Nothing, **NOTHING** they do makes sense ! And it’s always the same, everywhere ! »

Emily finished her tirade with tears in her eyes, threatening to spill down on her hands, fisted in the covers of the bed, anger in her voice and her body lightly trembling.

« It… It’s not that simple, Em. They can’t just scrape off the mage threat, or accept anyone into… » started Alistair, wincing at the look Morrigan gave him.

« It is. On this one thing, it really is. it’s a matter of yes, or no. A matter of recognizing that systematically beating down on people for something out of their control is wrong. You know what was happening in my world, before I arrived here ? We don’t have elves, or dwarves, or Kossith. Yet, we still fought, because of the color of our skins. White was the dominant, the ‘desired’ color. Cops, the equivalent of Templars or guards, were killing people with little to no sanctions simply because of their skin colors. Less than a century ago, in the span of thirty years, a mad man took over half of Europe and killed millions of people, men, women, children, because they had a different religion, a different lifestyle, or simply opposed him. He drove my entire world into war and destruction. The biggest military power on the planet dropped two bombs on an island when they entered the war, killing thousands of civilians, because the country’s army attacked their military base of operation. Imprisoned their own citizens because they were from the same part of the world as their ‘ennemies’, and not white. When the war stopped, they still made and enforced laws that made it legal for Asians and Black people to be forbidden from owning property, marrying outside of their own race, or even earning a decent wage for their work. »

« That… that’s wrong. They couldn’t have possibly… »

« Oh but they did. And before that, wherever he landed the white man systematically erased cultures, ancient knowledge and whole tribes, in the name of money, control and religion. Destroyed local economies to make the people rely on them and their techniques, their goods, their will, the invader becoming the only way to survive. To oppose them meant death. By starvation or the sword. They took children from their homes to raise them to be good little Christians and servants, to know their place as less than second class citizens, ranked in their own hierarchy by their skin tones and wether they could ‘pass’ for white. Crusades, our own version of Exalted Marches, happened simply because the local king wanted to win a war for fame, or gain favor with the Chantry, taxing the people into starvation and abject poverty. Women were treated like property, not allowed to work, own their own bodies or have rights to their own children, not allowed to fight in wars, not allowed to do anything but make babies like breeding mares. Being female meant being property. Women gained the rights to be considered asindependent ‘beings’ 60 years ago, but there are still earning less than men, still considered less than men, and in many parts of the world are still killed simply for having an opinion, refusing to marry a man thrice their age or wanting to learn to read. Men could get rid of their wives legally, by selling them, just having them declared insane and locked away forever, or accused to be witches to be burn at the stake. A common ‘treatment’, ages ago, was being dunked in freezing water because they were declared ‘hysterical’ if they asked their husbands to stop wasting the family’s money in drinks or voiced any displeasure with their abusive husbands. While white men could, and still can, discriminate, rape and kill women without being truly prosecuted, black men are systematically sent to jail on the slightest suspicion of them having committed the crime, sometimes on false accusation or because the woman’s family learned of her lover and disapproved on the basis of being racist bigots. The rich and powerful, law abiding and criminals alike, escape the system, and it’s the exact same thing here. Money rules all. Greed and Power makes the world go round. The only difference is, here there is no internet to spread awareness or organize themselves. »

« You’re wrong » vehemently denied Leliana. « The Chantry here is different. It is trying. Divine Beatrix… »

« Divine Beatrix is currently getting Templars involved into politics in Kirkwall for money. And she’ll succeed. »

« What ? »

« That cannot be… it’s not within Chantry prerogative… »

« You really think that would stop her ? »

« I… there isn’t… the Chantry takes in orphans ! Offers them an education and a future ! »

« In the service of the Chantry, yes. Do you think they would still take care of these children if they decided to not become Templars, or sisters and brothers ? »

« They would ! »

Emily snorted.

« Right. Alistair, remind us again, what was the Mother’s reaction to Duncan conscripting you ? To you making a choice for yourself that didn’t align with what she wanted ? »

The man danced from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable and unwilling to be put in the spotlight

« Hm… She.. Hm… She wasn’t the happiest ? »

« Exactly. And I’m not even going to ask you to describe the punishment for messing up the chant or asking questions about it, because I already know. Corporal punishments, food withheld from the ‘rogue element’, solitary confinement, clothes worn until literal rags… »

« Maker’s breath, how do you… »

« Because it happened where I’m from, too. I told you, it is the same everywhere. And it’s a never ending wheel. As long as the Chantry keeps their dirty little secrets, as long as self-centered men and women sit in power and do nothing, there can be no change. No peace. As a fictional queen would say, we need to break the cycle, break the wheel. There is no other choice. Change is coming, and the storm will destroy everything on its path.Institutions, Circles, Templars… Everything will fall. And there will be nothing but death if people can’t put their difference aside and actively choose to be better, to look at themselves and realize they are wrong. »

« And you know better I suppose ? »

« I don’t. I really don’t. I never had to fight to earn my rights to be treated as a human being. I’ve never had to pick a side. I’ve never had to fear demon possession or mages becoming abominations. I’ve never seen war and destruction like here. I never killed until coming here. I didn’t study socio-politics, or economics, or how to manage a freaking kingdom. But I know History. I know it is only written by the winners. And I know everything is a cycle, that errors are bound to be repeated. »

« Then tell us what is about to happen ! What is coming ? »

« No. I’m not going to tell you. Because I know you’ll try to stop it, and that will only make it worse. »

« Why won’t you help us ! »

« Because it wouldn’t be helping ! »

« Yes ! »

« No ! Of course not ! Do you think preventing the Magisters from entering the Fade and the Black City would have changed anything ? What would have been the consequences of warning Andraste of her fate, hm ? What will be the consequences of me, telling you what I know, what’s about to happen in the next decades ? It could make things infinitely worse ! »

« You don’t know that ! »

« I do ! We have a whole fucking theory about it ! If I warn you know, there is no going back. There are things I can tell you in advance, which I will, because withholding information serves as nothing but a mean to force you into an impossible choice. But the rest ? No. This is too risky. Too much hand in the balance. What if telling you of someone’s death means you die to prevent it ? What do you think would have happened, if I had come in earlier and told Cailan of Loghain’s betrayal ? Or Bryce Cousland of Howe’s ? Or Duran of Bhelen’s ? I told you this the first day we met ! If I had warned you, you wouldn’t be the people you are destined to be. You wouldn’t be able to save Thedas. And, because of this, Thedas would be lost. »

« But you issued a warning to someone in Lothering, when we met. »

« I did. I did, because I will prevent as many of the useless deaths as I can. It’s not much, but if I can manage it… it’s enough to tip the balance to the right side. »

« The one **_you_** will choose. »

« Thedas’ survival side. » said Emily, exasperated. « Your survival. People’s survival. The world not falling apart and the sky not falling on our heads kind of survival. The one in which Thedas’s population stands a chance. »

Wynne still looked at her with reproach in her eyes, and it hurt Emily to think that, after all this time, her companions, her **_friends_** , still doubted her and her intentions…

She really wanted this conversation to end, and she really wanted Leliana and Wynne to not be mad at her…

« Let’s just… Let’s go to bed. Big day tomorrow, with the Assembly and the Nobles… » said Lyna, defusing the situation before the tensions escalated further.

Emily went back to her room with a knot in her stomach, and an uneasy feeling that, while she had been accepted into the group, they weren’t truly trusting her just yet. She was surrounded by people who claimed to be her friends, but she felt as lonely as she had been before she had fallen through her TV screen.

* * *

_George Eliot,_ _Middlemarch_

Next : Once More Unto the Breach Dear Friends !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to skip this part, as it is very personal, and with all the recent happenings, I needed to put it out there, anywhere, and I hope it will make a difference, even if it's just one person's life, or someone who needed to read it on a bad day. If you have positive things to share, please feel free to do so ^^  
> Be aware, it sounds a lot more rebellious than I intended...
> 
> I had a hard time with everything happening throughout the world.  
> I'm fortunate enough to have never been discriminated against because of my skin color, never had to fear for my life because of my skin color, and never had to fight to be considered as anything other than my skin color. I have never, and will never know racism directed towards me.  
> I am, however, a woman. I fear for my life because of my gender, I am discriminated against because of my gender, and I had to fight to be considered anything other than a potential broodmare, cook and cleaner in one.  
> It is not the same thing, far from it, and far from me the idea of claiming it is. But, as we're seeing, as we've seen with #MeToo, things can only move forward when we stand united, and refuse to budge. Which is why it is important to be together in this fight, as it will be in the next when any minority - or abused half of the world-population - will need to be heard.  
> Things are changing, white-cis-male dominated society is on its last leg, and we'll be the ones to tear it down. But let's not forget we'll also be the ones who build what's to follow. Let's stand together, and we'll change the world. Literally.


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